In the Ebony Flame
by Kiell Aeron
Summary: Voldemort had a daughter he never knew of. She's lived with her mother all her life, and she knows of her father but he doesn't know of her. What happens when the Dark Lord learns of the daughter he never knew of...and still doesn't love. S'after O.o.t.Ph
1. Chapter One: Changes

Ebony watched the rain fall, softly touching the Earth with its cold, wet fingers. Her pale skin was a contrast to the dark hair that showed that she had been named correctly. How could they do this to her? Could they really move her from America? It wasn't as though she had any real friends, but at least after fourteen years she had been accepted as an oddity. What, so now that she was moving, she wouldn't be accepted till she was twenty-eight? Why didn't her mom just appear one morning and say, "Hi, you weren't meant for happiness. Sorry"? She was too stubborn to cry, and too stubborn to give her father any more regard. She had been trained for her first five years at an American school for Witchcraft and Wizardry and she didn't want to leave Lyresaion for a stupid school named Hogwarts. The infamous Harry Potter attended that school. The one who got rid of "He Who Must Not be Named" The infamous, I'm-a-braggart-and-a-git-Potter. He would turn the whole school against her if they knew who she was. She was the daughter of darkness' essence. Being Tom Riddle's daughter had not made her any closer to sane. Not at all. Ebony watched the rain fall, softly touching the Earth with its cold, wet fingers.

"Honey, come now. Everything will be okay," her mother said as she came in to Ebony's room quietly. Despite her mother's pleasant tone, the raven-haired girl translated it as, "hi, you weren't meant for happiness. Sorry."

Ebony sat, silent. She didn't want to see her mother. It was all her mother's fault. If her mother hadn't been swayed by the whims of the great Lord Voldemort, she wouldn't have been born. If her mother hadn't taken to some new man in damned England, she wouldn't have to move. Her mother's fault. All of it. Every last bit. She had been reading up on Hogwarts through some book called _Hogwarts: A History_. It was some sort of rubbish, really.

Four people got together all happy-like and decided to start a school. Whoop-di-doo. Then the fighting began when they had different views. Whoop-di-doo times two. Separated into four different houses. Whoop-di-doo times three. Everyone may as well have died. Good riddance. A school that was divided due to a few petty differences couldn't stand very well. She could imagine the teachers taking sides. Good God, she'd have to be sorted. At least in Lyresaion, she could talk to whom she pleased, and be with whom she pleased without the other person looking as though she was crazy. She had set up a tutoring system, and was useful, though she was also an "oddity" because she took to being silent. No one knew of her past. Who would blame her for wanting to keep it a secret? She got up and left her mother standing in her room. She grabbed a light jacket and decided to go jogging. Whenever she ran, she could forget. At least a little. She could lose sense of who she was, living again without knowing what she lived for. What did she live for? Who knew?

Her feet pounded the sidewalk faster. Every step pressed her to go forward. And forward she went. She was the spawn of a demon. Why was she mad at the one who killed him? Maybe because that same person hadn't done his job correctly. If he had, then Daddy wouldn't be alive again. He wouldn't be calling her name softly. She ran harder. Who was her father? Did she ever know him? Did he ever know of her? She ran faster. Did she care? No. Did anyone care about her--solely for her? No. Did she want someone to care? No. Yes. Maybe. Who cares? Her chest burned. She needed a diversion, something to think of aside from the pain. Milly went out with Robert last year. They were such an awkward looking couple. Milly was ugly. Robert was ugly too. Together they would have ugly children. Ugly. She was ugly. She had to be. If she wasn't, her father the living terror wouldn't have left her with her mother the living beauty. Her father must have been ugly. Or maybe this was repentance for what he was on the inside? She didn't care anymore. Her legs hurt. She needed to think about something else. She couldn't find anything to think about. That was when she stopped running.--when there was nothing left to think about.

She remained standing while her muscles burned. Sweat coated her body like an extra protective layer. When she caught her breath, she sat on the ground and everything raced back as though it had been only a few paces behind, waiting for her to tire. She was the father-less child. But she had a father. He was dead save his essence. He was cold. Empty. He was evil. She was the daughter of a beauty. When she looked in the mirror, she saw her ugliness. Her hair was too long, too straight, and too dark. Her eyes were an unnatural dark purple. Her skin was pale, but she hated sunlight anyway. She wasn't ugly in the way Milly was ugly. Milly just needed acne to go away. Ebony didn't have a trace of that.


	2. Chapter One and a Half: And So it Goes

"You boys really should have started on your reading," Hermione chastised from her perch on George's bed.

"We should have, but watch us care," Ron retorted.

"Oh, you are such boys!" Hermione exclaimed, tired now.

"Why, thank you, 'Mione, sweetheart. You flatter us so," Harry joined in as he finally moved a pawn forward.

"It'll be a wonder if you two pass this year," the small brunette huffed. Her hair had become tamable, or maybe she spent more time taming it, either way, her only major physical flaw was long gone, now, and along with it, her meekness.

"It'll be a wonder if they actually get us a good Defense of the Dark Arts teacher this year," Ron replied as he moved a pawn forward two spaces.

"Well, let's see...Quirrel, Lockhart, Lupin, Mad-Eye, and then that freakish-self appointed wench, Umbridge. We'll see what they can do," Harry said, moving his bishop.

"Mum said to get downstairs now so we can go shopping," Ginny said as she came into the room. The boys looked at each other and rolled their eyes as Hermione jumped up and grabbed her list. Whoever said enthusiasm was contagious hadn't met Hermione and her friends. Harry and Ron could care less about supplies and classes despite their intense love for the school.

The boys walked downstairs slowly as they went into a new conversation about Quidditch.

"Hurry up!" Molly commanded. They jumped the last few stairs and stood in front of the fireplace, prepared to reach Diagon Alley by way of floo powder.

Harry cleared his head as he went first, and was glad when the rest of the group started popping up around him. The rush of the world around him dissolving so he could reappear elsewhere overwhelmed him only for a moment before fleeing again. He was still a solid three inches shorter than Ron, but Harry had neither want nor need to catch up to his lanky friend.

"Can we get the books first?" Hermione asked, her eyes glittering as they took in everything.

"Whyever not?" Molly replied. Her reply made the boys groan. "Why don't you and Harry go shopping for...something else?"

Harry smiled and nodded his head in the direction of Fred's and George's prank shop. Ron smiled broadly and they walked off without another word. The year would be lonely without those two to liven things up. "But they weren't the only ones lost," Harry recalled. He suddenly missed Sirius. He had tried to not think about him. It hadn't been working too well. A sense of loss filled him. He felt dizzy for a moment. Over the summer while at the Dursley's, he had practiced Occulency. Not only was it good for protecting his dreams, it protected his emotions. He gained control quickly. He would kill Black's sister, and if Voldemort had already given her the punishment of death, he would kill Voldemort. He remembered the Prophecy. He had to kill Voldemort anyway. It'd be like a two for one special at the candy shop.

The knowledge of the Prophecy was Trelawny's doing. Or else Voldemort wouldn't have scarred Harry, and even if he had, Harry would have probably died like everyone else who fell under the dark lord's gaze. Then Sirius wouldn't have died. Did that mean he should kill Trelawny, too? So, if he killed everyone to blame for Sirius' death, he would kill three people, go to the world of the dead and re-kill Sirius' dead mother, come back to kill a house-elf, and then he'd commit suicide. Great. Just a way to lift one's spirits. "Control," he thought with a grimace.

"Earth to Harry! You just ran into a girl!" Ron was on the brink of shouting.

"Oh. Hi. Sorry," Harry said, looking for the person he had allegedly run into.

"She left already. She called you a mannerless ignoramus and stormed off."

"Oh...Sorry, Ron. I just...blanked out."

"You looked like you had been put in a stupor," Ron laughed.

"Oh, shut up," Harry snarled playfully as he walked forward to the doors of the prank shop. "Was she anyone we knew so I could apologize?"

"I've never seen her before. Maybe she's a tall first year."

"Tall first year? You've got to be kidding."

"Then she's a...whaddya call 'em? The people that come from other places?"

"Immigrant?"

"No...starts with a 't'."

"Transfer?"

"Yeah, one of those." Harry rolled his eyes and smiled as they entered George and Fred's shop. They were there looking as slick as ever, taking inventory.

"How's the business going?"

"Very well, oh wonderful benefactor," George replied with a broad smile on his face. For a moment, thoughts of Sirius escaped Harry. Everything seemed so normal because somehow, despite its continuous losses, the world just kept turning, moving beneath Harry's leaden feet so the sun could rise and set without a care of earthly occurrences.


	3. Chapter Two: Facing Fact

After the flight from Hell, Ebony found herself dead tired. She entered her new house without question or protest. Fierrensia Manor seemed like a lovely place. Her new step-father is what was considered a pureblooded wizard, yet he lived like a pureblooded prince. Her room had been decorated more or less to her taste with different shades of gray setting the color scheme. The next morning, she found David in the living room and decided to set the rules of the house down before he could.

"Look, David, you're a nice guy. I'm going to lay down several rules for you so that way we don't fight and my mother can have faith in this fake little reverie." Ebony glared up at her new, soon-to-be stepfather and extended her hand towards a chair, indicating for him to sit down. The easy-going brunette smiled before taking a seat.

"Okay, sweetheart. Would you care for something to drink?" he asked as he sat. His politeness vexed her.

"No. Now first of all. Do not call me sweetheart. I am not sweet and blood has a metallic flavor to it, so hearts aren't sweet either. Therefore, the name does not hold itself in proper regard. Second. Do not hug me. Third. I will not call you Dad, Daddy, Father, or any of those other over-rated titles. Fourth do not bother me. Fifth. Do not invite me to eat with the family because as soon as I'm old enough, I'm disowning my mother and thankfully, you can be discarded with her. Sixth. I will not acknowledge you as more then another person living in the house and you are to treat me the same. Seventh. I will never have company over, but should that chance arrive for some unknown, cosmic reason you are not to talk to me, about me, or in front of me and/or my guest. Is that understood?"

At first, David looked puzzled. His new daughter had never talked to him much, and that must have been the longest string of words he'd ever heard her say. She seemed angry with him, her mother, and most importantly, herself. He wondered why such a small girl would harbour so much rage. He could live with all of those rules, though, at least until she grew out of this childish phase. He glanced at her fingers. "What happened to your ring, swee-Ebony?"

Ebony grimaced at the thought of the small, diamond ring he had given her in honor of the coming wedding. He had said that it wasn't just a marriage, it was the making of a family and that meant everyone had to be treated equally. Well, in the first place, her diamond had been smaller than her mothers. In the second, she couldn't find a way to melt it down, so she buried it after arriving. "I'm saving it so I can wear it on a special occasion," she lied glibly.

"Oh...well, it's a very special ring, and I hope you take care of it. You see, that ring was my mother's favorite from her childhood, given to her by her best friend. When her fingers got too big for it, she wore it on a silver necklace and never removed it. In her will, she gave it to me with the instructions to give it to a special girl, and I think I chose a very special one indeed."

Ebony felt a pang of guilt. Guilt was a cursed emotion. It made people do things that wouldn't have been done otherwise. She should have cut him off after he called it a special ring. She knew better. Didn't she? Of course she did. She walked off to unearth the stupid ring. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid…

Why couldn't he just give her a dagger? She would have more use for a dagger then she would for a ring. Besides, it was wretched here in this Hogwarts place. Yesterday afternoon, she had run into this boy. Yes, it was partially her fault, but she had mumbled an apology, which was better then what he had done. She was the one that had fallen and he just stood there, spacing out. His friend tried to get his attention, but his friend was loud, and seemingly non-intelligent. She sighed, knowing better than to assume. He was probably intelligent, but taking full advantage of his summer vacation.

Draco Malfoy threw himself back upon his bed, bored. He had grown out his hair a bit over the summer and given himself the gift of a diamond studded hair tie. Each summer, he kept a journal and this one was no different. Within the week before school started, he burned them to make sure no one could read the words to be kept only to himself. He watched the ceiling change colors, trying to find one to suit his mood, and finally it settled upon being a look at deep space. A comet flew overhead. He wondered where the rumor that one was to make a wish upon a shooting star had come from. He didn't make a wish. He didn't know what he wanted. He knew what his father wanted, and seemingly, he had no other choice in the matter. Then again, right now the house was being run by his mother while his father was paying his way out of being thrown into Azkaban for good. His father chose a life of deceit. Did Draco want the same fate? Did his wants matter?

He stood and opened a steel box. It was warm to the touch and filled with a never ending flame. He threw the silver journal in, watching the flames eagerly lap at the pages of the book he had written in so diligently. His thoughts...his desires...all gone. They may as well be. They were useless to all. No one saw beyond his last name...He was a Malfoy. Powerful. Proud. Pureblooded. P Cubed. Great. That's exactly what he wanted to be...at least, it was all he was going to be.

A white and black owl came into his room through his open window and landed on the edge of the box. He picked the bird up and shook it violently. "You stupid animal! That's a box of _fire_!" The owl let out a shrill cry and a part of him wanted to back hand it. He covered the box, and put the bird down. It was visibly shaken, and he felt bad for it. He found some extra seed and gave it to the bird in apology. Stupidity was something always punished in this household.

The bird was shivering uncontrollably, obviously unused to such treatment. The bird was Pansy Parkinson's and it was twice as smart as its mistress, though that didn't say a lot. He hoped the seed wouldn't make it gain twice the weight of its mistress, for if such a thing should happen, the bird would never touch the sky again. "Birds," he paused his thought to pet the owl slowly, "didn't deserve to be messengers." They needed the sky, free will, and the chance to prove their intelligence more than their sense of direction. The bird calmed after a while and Draco took the message.

_  
Dear Draco,_

Mummy said that when school started we had to be extra good, especially to Hairy Potty, next year 'cause he's going to have a lot of teachers favoring him, and if we're going to be in good with our professors, we can't attack him. I miss the lady from the Ministry. She was so nice! What was her name again? Umbrella? Underbridge? I hope Dumbledore doesn't give us another one of those half-lings. Those centaurs. They're awful. I miss you and I can't wait til school starts. I have a special surprise just for you! 

_Hugs and kisses, _

_Your precious Pansy._

Draco held the urge to regurgitate. Precious Pansy? Hugs and kisses? He shuddered. Nasty.

Early that morning, Percy had stopped by and came in wordlessly. His head was bowed and his face was set in a scowl. Molly wouldn't have known of his presence if not for her clock which told of the family's where-a-bouts.

Percy's face was beet-red when the rest of the family (including Harry and Hermione) came downstairs to meet him. Arthur looked his son over solemnly. He knew the look that was plastered on Percy's face, but Percy--the perfect one--had never worn that look before. The look of failure. The look of a fired man with no where to go but home. That look seemed out of place on perfect Percy, but Arthur said nothing. Every man needed to feel the sting of failure. It was the only way to grow and learn.

Percy studied his only sister quietly, contemplating her. She was female and females were notorious for their understanding, yet Ginny stood before him brother, rigid and cold. At last, she snapped. "Go away! We don't want to see you! Go have your fun with Umbridge and Fudge! _Go_!" Ginny screamed. Harry put a hand over her mouth and she struggled in his arms, but she had no choice but to give up and glare at her older brother silently. Harry removed his hand when Hermione put a hand on his shoulder.

"Percy..." Arthur began and ended, not knowing what else to say.

"Get out you git," Ron growled.

"Ron!" Molly and Hermione exclaimed together. "Ronald Weasly, I will not tolerate such verbal abuse towards your brother under my roof!" Molly continued.

"I'd gladly tell him outside, too." Percy stood silently as they talked about him as though he wasn't there--as though he couldn't hear. As though he didn't know what they were all thinking.

"Why'd you come back?" Molly asked, ignoring Ron now.

"Fudge fired me. He blamed me for not knowing Potter was telling the truth. It's all his fault. The world would be so much better without Harry Bloody Potter," Percy said in a monotonously. Molly slapped him while Harry shrank away. He could feel their stares. He left them standing there and ran upstairs, stopping just before a wall. The sprint hadn't been long, but his breath was heavy with anger.


	4. Chapter Three: Dragon Heart

Neither Harry nor Percy had talked since the tall, red-head returned home. The awkward silence that darkened the house when they were in the same room made everyone around them jittery. Harry would normally leave first, in silent agreement that the world would be a better place without him. He no longer dreamed Lord Voldemort's dreams, he no longer dreamed period. His scar hadn't hurt him since he came to stay with the Weasly's but an eternal headache had been pounding at his head ever since Percy's arrival. Percy wasn't the cool one. Percy wasn't the funny one. Percy wasn't the wild one. Percy wasn't anything but the smart one--the one that was always right.

Percy stalked the halls like a silent phantom, jobless and living off of the internal chaos that had developed in his wake. Ginny refused to be in the same room with him. Ron glared at his brother with full-blown contempt. Hermione didn't talk to Percy directly, but she tried in vain to get Harry to talk. When he seemingly ignored her attempts, she stopped talking to him as well. When Fred and George came home to visit, they hugged each family member but Percy and left without once letting their eyes meet the past victim of their pranks. He would be a great test subject, yes, but they could just as easily hire people to get tested. Most kids were willing to try without getting paid anyway.

Ron, Ginny, and Hermione found any excuse to go outside. Ron always dragged Harry along and the maddening silence between them made the days seem longer. The last few days of summer were dragging along, but Ron couldn't wait to go back—even if only to see Snape.

"This is a summer vacation. There has to be something we can do!" Ron said loudly as they walked along a sidewalk.

"We could go to Private Drive and have the Dursleys shoot me and put me out of my misery," Harry said thoughtfully.

"He talks," Ginny replied, amused.

"Harry James Potter you are not to talk like that!" Hermione said loudly. Harry simply sighed and kicked a can along their path. The can rattled and filled the renewed, awkward silence.

"Let's make a club," Ginny suggested.

"We could learn to--" Hermione began

"No learning!" Ron interrupted, exasperated.

"You didn't let me finish, Ron. We could learn to become animagi," Hermione said with a satisfied smile. The word animagi caught Harry's attention. Sirius and James were animagi...they were part of the Marauders...the Marauders...He stopped walking as his mind raced trying to figure it all out.

"I won't have time. The OWLs and all," Ginny said softly. "I want to make a good impression with my first year on them."

"It's okay, Gin," Hermione said softly.

"No. It's not," Harry snapped.

"What?" Ron asked, confused.

"There were four Marauders.. Four. Can you count? Four. Prongs, Moony, Padfoot, and Wormtail. Four. Count them. Four. There are three here without Ginny. Three. Three! Can you count?" Harry was at a loss of breath, his body tingling with both excitement and unnecessary vexation. His face turned red. He was stressed and everyone knew it, but they were taken aback by the outburst nonetheless. "Yes, Harry. We can count. But think of it this way. One out of the four was evil and he helped--" Hermione cut herself off.

"How 'bout we just recruit someone next year?" Ron suggested.

"Fine," Harry complied. "Still rather it be Ginny. She wouldn't betray us."

"We'll find someone trustworthy," Hermione said. Ginny beamed at the compliment.

"Take Dean. He's an awesome..." Ginny stopped herself as she tried to think of what qualities he possessed aside from his kissing skill.

"No," Ron groaned before Harry could snap at her.

"Wait, we can't be the Marauders," Hermione said quickly.

"Why the hell not?" Harry snapped.

"Because I happen to be a girl. The Marauders were boys. And I demand that the last member be a girl. I refuse to be running around with three boys." Hermione remained calm though Harry's temper was beginning to take its toll on her patience. "At least he's talking," she sighed to herself.

Harry glowered at her and kicked the can again.

"You start school tomorrow, Draco," Narcissa said quietly.

Draco wanted to snap at her and say, "I'm well aware of that", but he held his tongue.

"I'm not sure just when your father will be back, but in case his," she paused to think of proper wording, "normal routine for getting himself out of trouble does not work, you need to take care of yourself. Understood?" Draco nodded. "If you should need my help, I'll be here and just owl me." Draco nodded again. "You are the Dragon, you know. And as the Dragon, you don't need to be just fierce as your father claims. You need to be strong here," she paused and put a hand on his heart, "here," she moved her hand to his head, "and you need to know how to have control over your mouth." She brushed her fingers through his hair softly. "Now is when you focus on the person you are going to become. You can become like your father," Narcissa paused to take in a deep breath, "or you can become your own person. Don't limit yourself. To a human, the sky is the limit...for a Dragon...the sky is endless." With those words, she got up and left, leaving Draco with his thoughts.

He was already strong of heart. He stood to the belief that he was as close to invincible as wizardly possible, and he was an utter genius...so what was her point? Crabbe and Goyle's mothers needed to have this talk with them. Then again, they would probably get so confused they'd collapse. Draco chuckled at the thought. He put his hair in a light pony tail and checked his reflection in the mirror. He looked...

"Sir...we are having a dinner guest," Maya, the house elf they got to replace Dobby, said softly.

"Who?"

"A friend of your mother's is going to get married, and your mother invited him, his bride, and her daughter to have dinner," Maya said, bowing her head. He was thankful that this House Elf at least seemed educated.

"I won't be joining them."

"But, Sir...your mother demands your presence."

"Tell my mother to," Draco paused as Maya's ears perked up at a chance to be given a command, "never mind. I'll be there." Maya disappeared off to go help in the kitchen and Draco went upstairs to take a shower and then change.

"I don't want to go," Ebony growled.

"Please, Ebony," her mother begged.

"Why? What's there? A house the size of this one, a lady whose husband is in jail, and a Hogwart-ian."

"You may not realize this but you're going to be a Hogwartian too, and you are going to the dinner and you are coming with us and there are no if's, and's or but's about it. Is that understood?"

Ebony glared at her mother and nodded. She decided to not talk for the rest of the evening, and maybe never again unless it was mandatory. People were stupid anyway. She got off her bed when her mother left and changed into her silver evening gown. She had worn it last year to the masked ball. She had worn it with a light, silvery feathered mask. No one recognized her and so she went under her middle name--Mysti.

Most of the males in her peer group had attempted to dance with her, and she received jealous glares from girls for the first time in her life. She left before the de-masking and no one had assumed it was her. She gritted her teeth when girls made up rumors about the infamous Mysti. They called her a whore and said that she slipped off to go have her own "fun" with some unknown male. As time wore on, Mysti was forgotten though and left as a mysterious apparition to all--teachers included. She wouldn't wear a mask now, but she wouldn't be little-miss-helpful either.

She spun around, watching the way the skirt twirled and looked in the mirror disgusted that she hadn't grown any taller since last year. Angrily, she made her way down the many sets of stairs to meet her mother and David in the carriage. The white carriage which glowed with the aura of happiness sped off as soon as she got in. They reached a tall, well-catered house with a dark air to it. Ebony stepped out of the carriage lightly after her mother and David got out. It was going to be a night as long as the endless gardens.

Her silken gloves irritated her, when she knew that in a natural state she would normally wear spikes. She wanted to go home. Not to David's house. Back to New York. Where everything was happy. Well, no, not quite happy, but being indifferent is better then miserable.

"Hello, hello," a tall, dark-haired lady said as she gave David a hug and a small peck on the cheek.

"Hello, Narcissa," David smiled. "This is my fiancée, Tabatha, and her daughter, Ebony."

"Hello," Tabatha said politely. Ebony nodded her acknowledgement, saying nothing as she hung back, wishing she hadn't worn the dress as she realized it scintillated under the slightest touch of light.

"Draco should be here in but a moment, so I'll just give the adults a tour and you can wait in the living room for his arrival." Ebony nodded again before wondering where the living room was. "Maya will take you to the living room." Suddenly a small elf scurried in, and Ebony looked at it curiously.

"This way, Madame," Maya said politely, having heard her orders prior. Ebony followed the obedient creature, almost eager to leave the adults to their own devices. Maya left silently, and Ebony sat on a couch and studied her finger nails, making sure they were clean. She took her hair out of its ponytail, and waited, bored.

Someone knocked on the door. "I'm changing," Draco growled as he finished his reply to Pansy's letter.

"Your guest has arrived and she does not look pleased," Maya called from behind the door.

"Give her something to drink. I'll be down in a moment." He gave the letter to his golden eagle and it flew off with a fierce cry. Draco watched Tyrin go, and sighed before turning to go downstairs. Maya was trying to get Ebony to talk and tell her what she wanted to drink. Ebony just sat, looking vacant. She wasn't even thirsty. How long did it take a Hogwartian to get dressed? She had simply shed her jeans and tank and changed into a dress. Of course, she didn't really do her hair, but since she normally kept it braided it was curly when it was unbraided. 

She felt someone's presence behind her, but didn't bother to turn and see who it was. The adults were probably back, and that just left her even angrier then before. She shook her head as Maya offered her something else.

"Master, she won't take a drink and you told me to give her something to drink, and--" Maya's voice broke as she ran, bursting into tears.

"Wow," Ebony thought. She turned to see who had such power over the little elf. Violet met silver and then each wandered over the other. Draco studied the girl with his liquid silver eyes. His eyebrows quirked at the sight of the slight decolletage, and his eyes traveled back upwards. Ebony, on the other hand, looked at the whole of him. His ponytail amused her as did his strong, chiseled features. Finally, she remembered that she had resolved not to care and turned away. 

"Why won't you accept anything to drink?" Draco asked. Ebony shrugged. "What's your name?" Ebony shrugged. "Are you mute?" Ebony looked at him as though he was crazy, and sighed and looked away.

"So much for never talking again," Ebony thought. "I'm not thirsty. My name doesn't matter to you. Apparently, I'm not mute I just don't want to be here. Deal with it."

"I don't want to be down here, but I'm talking."

"I'm not holding you here," Ebony snapped. She got up and stalked off to a random hallway, ignoring the fact that she would not only get lost, she would probably run into her temporary parental units. Draco had the urge to follow her but restrained himself.


	5. Chapter Four: The Past That Haunts You

"Get Harry to play chess with you," Hermione snapped as she turned the page quickly. Ron didn't know whether or not he should be disgusted that she had already run through one of their text books.

"He's busy running through a list of all the girls in our year that are of good character and what not to be a Marauder," Ron replied.

"There will be no Marauders," Hermione said thoughtlessly as she turned another page.

"Oh, come on. For Harry?"

"If you haven't realized, everything done is 'for Harry'. Try doing something for Hermione if you want her cooperation."

"What title do you suggest?"

"You can choose any name you like as long as it isn't the Marauders."

"So a name for Hermione made by Ron...I like this. What are we to be called exactly?"

"Go away Ron. You're a distraction."

"That's not a very good name for a club, 'Mione."

"Go _away_."

"Fiiiiiine," Ron drawled as he left, grinning. She didn't know yet.

"I'm lost...in a house with Hogwartians," Ebony thought desperately. She walked through dark, dreary room after dark, dreary room until she reached a room that seemed to hold warmth and ample light. Along the walls were photographs of Malfoys long gone.

She studied the pictures carefully. All of the male Malfoys had the same distinct features. They all had the same silver-blonde hair with the confident smirk and silvery eyes to match. Broad shouldered, well-muscled, and mostly tall. Some, though, seemed to have fire within while others didn't. One of the full bodied portraits coughed. She couldn't tell if Draco had that fire yet. He seemed...confused. Well, not confused exactly...just kind of lost...as though he didn't know where he fit.

The man she assumed was his father had cold, unwavering eyes. He glared at her with contempt. "Americans are in my house. Good God. What is the world coming to?"

"I don't want to be here you piece of trash," Ebony growled as she walked further along. Why were there only pictures of the men? His great-grandfather seemed a bit less abhorrable then his father. He grinned at her before the photo beside him coughed. Immediately, he straightened himself and glared. Through the glare, Ebony could see a twinkle in his eyes that seemed very different from the fire of others. She smiled back at him and dipped a slight curtsey. "Good day." She made her way back out of the room into the endless hallways. After randomly choosing a pure oak doorway, she entered a new room.

"Ebony...you will do it for me...you will kill the one who thought he had been through with me," a deep voice whispered as soon as she had entered. She felt as though spiders ran up and down along her spine and shivered. Turning on the ball of her foot slowly, she found no one behind her.

"Who's there?"

"Ebony...kill Harry Potter. I will take you wherever you want to go and be the father I never could be because of him."

"Oh, please. Draco Malfoy if you think you're being funny, you're not." How would Draco know of her heritage?

Wind whipped through the room, and Ebony wondered how. It is impossible for wind to blow in an empty room. The whirring of fans wasn't present either. Ebony tried to turn the doorknob to find that she had been locked in. She tugged at the doorknob furiously to no avail. "Voldemort, why do you insist upon fleeing death and tormenting the living. I'm not going to do your dirty work so let me go."

"You are, indeed, a foolish child."

"And I am indeed your child, so let me go!"

"I'm not in the mood for this, Ebony!"

"Make me care." Her voice was hoarse and her throat was raw. Her hands began to bruise as she pounded on the old wooden door, bidding it to open.

"You will care...I promise that you will." Voldemort's shrewd voice held a lilt of amusement. The door opened and Ebony ran away blindly, trying to distract herself and forget and escape the living nightmare.

When her fear dissolved and her heart dislodged itself from her throat, Ebony went in search of her mother. Her mind raced with thoughts too quickly for her to grasp just one.

"After Umbridge and her direct link to the Ministry which was a direct link to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, do you want to risk it with his only child?" Professor McGonagall asked, confused.

"She needs to be educated. It is but ignorance that creates fear and evil."

"And if the other students find out?"

"Who's going to tell them?" Dumbledore asked, arching a fine, white eyebrow.

"Don't the other teachers know?"

"Of course not. At least not yet. They'll figure it out. His greatness shines within her. The parts that make him the monster he is are not evident and if it can be helped, they won't be."

"I hope you're right, Sir," Professor McGonagall said before turning to leave. Albus nodded to her back as he opened a book, using a quill to scratch a few things into it.


	6. Chapter Five: Picture This

"I think Vandallites is a good title for us, you know? Little Vandals? Instead of Marauders," Hermione contemplated aloud as they conversed in the room she shared with Ginny.

"Little Vandals? 'Mione, the Marauders were hard-core. Little Vandals is like the Little Rascals," Harry replied, trying not to be angry.

"I'm not all that little," Ron said, giving his two cents as he bit into an applemel (completely caramel apple with the nutritional value of a regular one).

"Doesn't matter, Ron. Besides, Harry won't be busy with Defense of the Dark Arts this year, because Dumbledore is sure to have found a suitable teacher." Harry's eyebrows arched which alarmed Hermione. "I mean by suitable, that…he will have found a teacher with experience teaching an entire class…rather than a club…"

"Back peddle faster, Hermione," Harry glared.

"I think Vandallites is a lovely name, you know? It's so…not hackneyed…and…we should probably work out our short-hand names, yes?" Hermione asked, purposely changing the subject.

"Srebbacs…It's Scabbers backwards, and I aim to be everything that little rat wasn't. No pun intended."

"I'll be Malfoy-Hater-Extrordinaire," Hermione said quickly. "No, that's too obvious. If we're going to do things, we have to be discreet. Ron's name is fine. Vixen will suit me."

"So, I guess that leaves me as…" Harry's voice drawled as he pondered.

"E squared," Hermione replied.

"Pardon?"

"Emerald eyes. E squared. Or simply E."

"E? A single, solitary letter..." Harry thought thoroughly about the letter e, concluding that it was a vowel, and commonly used, a very important letter, indeed, but he wasn't as important as people thought he was. He was also masked and given some personality he didn't think he had of his own. "Not E. Eclipse."

Hermione smiled to herself in response to the title Harry had come up with. "So who's the fourth?"

"I have no idea," Harry sighed.

"Maybe," Ron said, taking another bite, "that girl that you ran into in Diagon Alley."

"Oh yeah. Hey, girl. I knocked you down before and I was in a daze so I didn't say sorry, but, would you join us?" Harry said sarcastically.

"You were in a daze?" Hermione asked, slightly concerned for her accident prone friend.

"Yeah, was thinkin' about Sirius and all. Just kinda got to me."

"Thinking," Hermione corrected absentmindedly, emphasizing the last syllable. "And kind of not 'kinda.'"

"Hermione, we are…Vandallites, not kids obsessed with grammar."  
Ginny chose then to walk in, almost making a silent entrance. "Harry, Mum wants to talk to you and Percy downstairs. Don't be angry."

"I'm not angry, Gin. Not angry at all," Harry replied, standing and wondering how she could even think he would be angry for such a simple request. Quickly, he made his way downstairs flaunting false enthusiasm.

"Mom, I hate it here, and I hate David, can't we just go home?" Ebony asked. "Real home. The one in the United States. Please?"

Tabatha pat her daughter's head gently as though she was trying to soothe a small child. It was rare for her daughter to talk, much less be on the verge of begging. Narcissa looked at the two from where she stood with David and called for Lian, another house-elf, to fetch Draco. How could he have been such poor company that this girl would be here, looking on the verge of tears? She was so pale, too. It was almost as though she had been frightened. Sure, she hadn't a healthy glow when she had walked in, a silent beauty by all means, but she looked petrified now. Startled she did seem, and perhaps homesick as well.

"Dearest, no. We're going to start a new life here with David. Okay?"

Ebony glared at her mother, grit her teeth, but nodded solemnly. She used the back of her hand to wipe away unshed tears as the world around her became blurry. When she cleared them, before her stood the silver-blonde boy she had left earlier.

"Shall we start over?" Draco asked, extending a hand. Ebony looked from his hand to his eyes and realized that if this was the world she had to live in, there was no God.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not especially."

"Then, yes," Ebony sighed.

"I am Draco Malfoy. Currently the youngest Malfoy. Best friend and the only mind between Crabbe and Goyle. Future," he paused to grimace, "boyfriend and husband to Pansy Parkinson, and your first-met classmate."

"I am Ebony, I'll need no other title. Currently, and hopefully, I will remain an only child. My lineage is not to be discussed. I hate everyone equally and in thus have no best friend. I am my own mind and I think for no one else. I don't intend on getting married, though I do intend on castrating the first male that attempts touching me," Ebony replied calmly. Draco immediately dropped his hand in response to her icy introduction.

"Um…would you care for something to drink?" Draco tried, almost entranced by this violet-eyed stranger.

"We already went over that," Ebony replied. "Show me the hallway with the pictures of your grandfathers." Draco considered taking her hand and guiding her to the hallway she had requested, but feared she might be rabid and bite off his fingers.

"This way," he said, starting down a hallway and Ebony thus followed, silently gazing at the décor of the house, not truly caring. Draco wasn't used to such treatment, and he walked all the faster. The raven-haired child had no problem keeping up with him and when they finally entered the hall, a grin lit Ebony's face and she went directly to his grandfather.

"How do you do, Sir?" she said, looking up into the eyes of the picture.

"What a lovely, young lass that has come to visit me. I'm wonderful. My life is at a stand-still, but you know. All is well." He shuffled over a bit to get a better look at Ebony.

"Hello, Dmitri," Draco said quietly.

"Why, hello there. You look exactly as your father did. Then again, I looked the same, and my father before me. There hasn't been a female born to a Malfoy in decades."

"I know, Dmitri. I know," Draco stated. Ebony went off to look across the line of Malfoys as Draco tried to think of something to say to the photo.

"Draco," Ebony called. "How did the first one here die?"

"He tried to kill his Sire."

"You're part Vampyre?"

"Now-a-days, who's not?"

"I'm not."

"You said not to discuss your lineage," Draco reminded her.

"True." Draco walked up to the girl he had met not long ago, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder as he looked over her head at the first true Malfoy.

Ebony tensed, not knowing whether to throw him, break his fingers, or simply let him remain as he was. She decided to let the action slide. "Are you friends with Harry Potter?"

Draco's silver eyes darkened and he slowly fell into a frown. "Potter and I are most certainly not two who would get along. He befriends mudbloods and those who are a disgrace to the wizarding kind."

"I am a mudblood," Ebony thought, but recalled that her lineage was not to be discussed. "Mudbloods aren't bad," she said aloud.

"But they're impure."

"What is purity?"

"A pureblood."

Ebony turned and took Draco's hand within her own. She pulled a her clip apart with her free hand. She took a sharper and jagged metal part and quickly made a vertical line along Draco's forearm, drawing blood as the surface skin broke. Using another section of the clip, she did the same thing on her own. "If I was a mudblood, would you be able to tell the difference?" Draco's eyes widened, almost fearfully as most of the portraits snarled at her. The one she had spoken to gave her the kindest smile of those who chose not to glare. Draco didn't answer as he watched the blood flow freely from his arm.

"You bleed just as I do. As a mudblood does. As a human does. As a wizard does. As an animal does. As a plant does. As anything that lives does. Dare you say that you are purer than I? Purer than your most-beloathed mudblood? Purer than Tom Riddle? Purer than a dove? Purer than a mighty oak that might have lived and seen centuries more than you could dream? Dare you say that your blood is purer than that of the earth that's beneath you when you walk through a cool forest after it has just rained?"

Draco watched five drops of blood fall to the floor. Some was his, and some was this occult girl's. He couldn't distinguish hers from his own. Were they honestly the same on the inside? Was this girl a pureblood? Was she a mudblood? Was she real at all? He couldn't tell. He simply couldn't tell.


	7. Chapter Six: Dark Dividers

The train was nearly ready to head out of the station by the time Ebony got to the platform. She was half-hoping it would leave her. With a sigh, she followed Narcissa's instructions and walked through the wall. As a gift of their new "friendship," Draco bought her a silver cat which Ebony promptly named Stranger. The tom cat refused a carrier and Ebony was pleased to not have to give him one. Shortly after she entered the train, it jostled and lurched forward.

The small girl frowned slightly but kept her balance as Stranger crouched low, hugging the aisle floor. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before searching for an empty cart. The third cart she reached housed Harry, Hermione, and Ron, and as she was about to turn away, Harry spoke, "Are you the girl I ran into at Diagon Alley?" He rubbed his ribcage slowly, easing away the pain of Ron's sharp elbow jabs.

Ebony and Stranger studied Harry in unison. With one, quick, sweeping glance, Ebony judged him as average. Stranger, however, found him inviting and leapt unto the wizard's lap. "Yes," she answered at last, hiding her amusement when he jumped up, surprised by the cat's swiftness. Hermione giggled and Ron scooted away from the demon cat. "See, this is why people shouldn't keep ruddy cats around," he muttered darkly only to find himself punched by Hermione. A smile almost crept across Ebony's face, but she masked it with a quick apology before placing her book down to claim her cat.

"Silly Stranger," she murmured into the cat's ear. It nuzzled her softly and her smile escaped her self-restraint. With gentleness she showed to no one else, she put her pet down. "I'm sorry for interrupting your…trip." Coldness had resettled.

"Would you care to stay with us?" Hermione asked. "It'd be nice to have an even girl to boy ratio for a change." Ebony studied her critically before relenting and sitting beside the brown-haired girl.

"Ginny's a girl," Harry countered.

"But we never see her," Hermione snapped. Stranger moved to sleep at the girls' feet. "Your eyes are a totally wonky colour," Ron commented crassly.

"Some people are born different," Ebony sighed as Hermione glared daggers at the redhead. The brunette had every intent upon making this friendship work. The new girl was different, and hopefully, she'd have an easier time accepting the group of misfits than any other female in the school. Feeling a need to fill in the silence, Hermione spoke, "So, are you an exceptionally intelligent and tall first year or…?"

"I'm a transfer from Lyresaion. A sixth year now…"

"If there's anything you'd like to know about Hogwarts, we'd be happy to help," Hermione volunteered. She'd heard of Lyresaion. It was fairly new in comparison to Hogwarts.

"I read _Hogwarts: A History_—"

"Yeah, their friendship is definitely sealed in stone," Ron sighed. Harry chuckled his agreement. Ebony's eyes met his before she looked away. His laughter ceased. She was the first person to look at him—really look at him for the first time without trying to trace his scar with their eyes. She didn't even seem interested in the mark that was half-hidden by his unruly hair.

"Do you know where I could find Draco Malfoy?" Ebony asked, ignoring Ron completely.

Harry coughed. "Why in the bloody Hell would you want to?"

"I have something for him because he gave me Stranger. So I made him a necklace. I'd rather give it to him before we arrive at your school."

"Malfoy actually gave a gift?" Ron asked, arching an eyebrow. Hermione's heart sank a little. A friend of Malfoy's couldn't possibly be the missing ingredient to a foursome. She sighed. "Leave it, Ron."

Ebony drew her fingers along the necklace with the amethyst dragon claw that curved against the hollow of her throat. She had shaped and modeled it after one she had seen in David's study. She wished she hadn't come to this cart and hated herself for it. The silence between the four grew thick and heavy, making the infamous three tremble slightly as their minds raced with ways to fill it. Ebony, who was used to silence, simply wondered how they would react if they knew who her father was. After all, mentioning an acquaintance had stolen their larynxes away.

Harry cleared his throat before making a feeble attempt at tact. "Malfoy's a git. He's a dirty, arrogant, pureblooded prick who has always had the world on a silver platter with his name engraved in its borders. He finds your weaknesses and uses them to hurt you just for spite."

"I think it would be best if I left," Ebony said thoughtfully. "Thank you…ever so much for inviting me to sit with you." As she rose, Stranger awoke from his catnap, stretching and yawning lazily.

"Wait," Hermione interjected. The strength behind her voice compelled Ebony to stop at the threshold. "I'll," she hesitated, closing her eyes to reduce the shock of what she was going to say, "I'll come with you."

"Excuse me? No. You don't leave to hang out with Mr. Purebloodprickbait," Ron roared, rising to his feet.

"Ron's right, 'Mione. Let her go. She's affiliated with Slytherin scum."

"As far as I can tell," Ebony said, turning to glower at Harry, "he's a kinder person than you. Also as far as I can tell, Mr. Potter, I'm standing right here before you, meaning that I can hear you. If you ever decide to give manners a smidgeon of a chance in your life, please, wait until I leave before deciding to insult me and my taste in acquaintances." Hermione stood, realizing that as far as first impressions went, she and her fellows had failed miserably. She sighed to herself darkly as she walked over to the new girl, touching her arm before leading the way out of the cart.

Rons fists clenched as he and Harry watched Ebony follow Hermione outside. Harry sighed as the look of defeat crossed his face. Could a five year friendship be ruined by a little girl? He imagined seeing once mousey 'Mione running along with Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy. Perhaps she was tired of being so alone…the world knew her as the know-it-all who said smart things and did well on tests. Feelings, though…no one considered those. She was a teenage girl. Wanting to be in the company of other females was inevitable. The squeaky wheels of the food cart stopped in front of the boys' cart. "Chocolate, Ron?" The redhead nodded too dumbfounded by this train ride's occurrences to do anything more.

Hermione found Draco's cart and slid the door open. Stranger dashed in ahead of the girls, and as soon as the young Malfoy saw the cat, he stood. A flutter of happiness lightly washed over him before he recalled his surroundings. He groaned inaudibly as first entered Ebony, her violet eyes as mysteriously calm as ever. Once he saw Hermione however, he mentally stumbled, the groan of displeasure barely audible—but it had escaped him nonetheless. Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle each remained seated, confused first by the cat, then the girl with the odd eyes, and lastly the mudblood.

"Hello, Draco," Ebony said, speaking first as she unclasped the necklace.

"Ebony," he replied as coldly as he could muster. She ignored it.

"I'm sure you know Hermione. And I'm certain she knows you…" Hermione and Draco glanced at each other, the electric heat of hatred passing over Ebony's head. "I'm not really here for long. I wanted to say thank you for Stranger." She studied Draco's stone face. He didn't seem at all similar to the boy she had spent the night watching the stars in the gardens with…

"Malfoy," Hermione spat, trying her best to be civil. She couldn't see what Ebony found to be of interest in the blonde. She saw a flicker of uncertainty behind his haughty smile.

"Granger," Draco spat back. Ebony caught the distaste and walked over to her first-made acquaintance. "I made you something. I know it's nothing like a living creature, but it seemed to suit you." She walked around behind the blonde and brushed his hair aside before clasping the necklace around his neck. The smell of soap tickled her nostrils. "How does it look, Hermione?" Pansy's eyes narrowed with objection, but she could think of nothing to say.

"A dragon claw seems to suit him just fine," Hermione said honestly, "the amethyst would look better on you, though. Here." She walked over to Draco, standing not more than two inches away from him before pulling out her wand. Crabbe and Goyle stood immediately. Hermione's eyes met Draco's and she saw suspicion and hatred behind them. They hadn't been this close together since she'd punched him squarely. "Argenteus," she whispered, flicking her wand in time with the syllables. The stone gained a metallic shine, and an almost natural silver overpowering the pale purple.

Pansy immediately threw a book at Hermione while screaming, "Get away from him you filthy mudblood! Go back to whoring yourself out to Pothead and Weasle!" Ebony had her wand out in seconds, sending the book back to the girl Draco had claimed to be his future wife before it could touch Hermione. Crabbe and Goyle watched dumbfounded as the book hit Pansy squarely in the chest, smacking her nearly, nonexistent breasts (surprising for her weight) and sending her back to her seat.

"I think it's best you leave," Draco observed, suppressing his laughter. Ebony's eyes flickered with misunderstanding for a moment and she nodded. "I suppose you're right. I hope your pathetic excuse of a girlfriend realizes that a good dose of knowledge can pack quite a punch unless you try to learn at least a little on a regular basis. The dumber you are, the harder it hits, no, Hermione?"

Hermione grinned. "Indeed, Ebony, indeed."

"Thank you for the cat, Draco. It's a shame you have a split personality. When you figure out who you are, you can have this back." She rotated her wand in a slow, counter-clockwise circle and the necklace returned to her palm. "Enjoy the evening." She nodded to Hermione, and the brunette lead the way out of the cart. When they were at a far enough distance, she broke into a fit of laughter. Ebony, who failed to see the hilarity, smiled nonetheless. She'd lost an acquaintance but gained another and the trade seemed to be fair. Stranger nuzzled against her. This was a time to change. Coldness wasn't going to get her anywhere, and though she spent most of her life adjusting to being alone, having someone near felt so much better—so much warmer...so much more comforting. Her eyes met Hermione's. "Please, tell me about yourself," Ebony implored, surprised to find that she actually cared.

"First, I have to tell you a secret. Ron and Harry will absolutely kill me for this, but…I want you to in our little club-to-be."


	8. Chapter Seven: Sorting Things Out

As soon as the train stopped, Ebony and Hermione got off with Stranger at their heels. They were approached by the tallest man Ebony had ever seen, but Hermione didn't seem too surprised by him. He was tall, broad, bearded, and absolutely baffling to the senses. Stranger crouched behind his mistress as the half-giant stood before them.

"'Ello, 'Mione. Where's Ha'ry 'n Ron?" he asked. Hermione sighed softly. "It'd figure they would be who he seeks first," she thought to herself. She didn't rush him with a hug the way she normally would, deciding to answer, "I don't know, Hagrid...but this is my new friend, Ebony."

Hagrid's glance fell upon the raven-haired girl and she suddenly felt smaller than she was used to feeling, but her trained voice came out smoothly despite it, "Hello."

"Ebony Fierrensia? I was s'posed ter be lookin' fer ye. "

"Not Fierrensia. That is my step-father's name. Rysiale," she corrected coldly.

"Yea, er, Dumbledore wishes to see ye straight off before dinner. I'll take ye now, then…" He grumbled on the inside, his hope of seeing Harry and Ron before dinner crushed due to his obligations.

"I'll see you inside," Hermione smiled, trying to be reassuring. Dumbledore probably wanted to see her just to tell her about the school. Transfers weren't common, and transferring so late… "I'll see you inside," she repeated, waiting for a response.

"Certainly, Hermione. It was a pleasure meeting you." She scooped up Stranger for the sake of having something to hold before nodding to Hagrid.

"Bye, 'Mione," he boomed before starting on his way with Ebony gradually getting further and further behind. Every one of his steps was equivalent to three of hers.

"Oh, Draco, we may not be able to make Potter's life a living Hell, but we can absolutely destroy hers," Pansy said, rubbing her sore lower back as they got off the train.

"She's not worth the time," he replied nonchalantly. He drew his finger along the line of his arm that she had cut. For the most part it had healed, but he remembered the way it felt. After that, whenever their eyes met, for a moment he felt like the stupidest person in the world. She may be a social disgrace, but he couldn't even express himself.

"But Draco," Pansy purred, "it'll be fun. She kissed his temple softly as she slid her hand over his chest. Maybe we can talk it over after I give you your surprise."

Draco masked a grimace as Crabbe and Goyle raced to the Great Hall, eager for dinner to start. "What would this surprise be?"

"Something every man wants, but few can get." She turned his head and kissed him deeply, stopping him from moving forward. A few Slytherins watched, eager to say something cruel, but as they were well-acquainted with Draco's brand of retaliation, they kept it to themselves. People from other houses, however, laughed as they walked away. Ron, who was walking past, couldn't resist, "So with all the trinkets in your manor, you decided to bring your cow to school just so you could give her a lil kiss."

Draco attempted pulling away, but her lips followed his. He was certain he could overpower the husky girl, but he had no intention on harming her yet. He heard Weasley walking away, and couldn't believe he would have to let that insult slide. He succumbed and kissed her back and only then did she release him.

"Hello, Ms. Rysiale and welcome to our school. We're extremely happy to have you," Dumbledore grinned. His half-moon glasses glinted as they caught some of the candlelight from around the room.

"Hello, Professor. I was told you wanted to see me."

"Would you like some candy?" he asked.

Ebony looked at him, completely puzzled. Hagrid said he wanted to see her, not feed her before dinner. "No, thank you."

"Hmm. I love lemon drops…Anyway, normally, in one's first year at Hogwarts, they are sorted and given a House."

"I know," she interrupted, not wishing to hear a story she had read.

"Fair enough. I took the liberty of assuming that due to your…special entrance to the school, you'd want this done in privacy. You see, the Sorting Hat has the tendency to unlock all of your deepest secrets and fears as well as your hopes and pleasures and discussing them with you. At your age, you probably have a lot more under your surface than the typical first year, mm?" His eyebrow arched meaningfully, and Ebony nodded slightly. "So please, have a seat, and I will be right back." He walked away and Ebony sank into a wooden chair. She studied the room objectively. It was nicely furnished with warm finishing touches to make the Headmaster's office seem not quite so forbidding.

Upon a metal perch was a bird of fire that Ebony had only read about in legend. Stranger had long since fallen asleep in her arms and she stroked smooth circles into his fur. The necklace she had made for Draco served as his collar. To make her gift equal in value to a cat, she had given the stone the ability to give tranquility to its wearer. The cat did not really need to be any calmer, but the metallic shine Hermione had given the amethyst matched the cat nicely. Fawkes was preening and Ebony's curiosity was diminished by her laws of common courtesy as she relaxed into the chair.

Dumbledore returned with the Sorting Hat and carefully placed the ragged cap on her head. Immediately, the world around her faded into nothingness.

"_Interesting, very interesting_," the hat murmured to her on contact. Her pulse quickened before she regained control over it. "_Oh? You're a clever one. Ravenclaw, then? Oh, dear, no…that'd be a mistake of the ages. You're smart, but not wise…Mmm, that's the case with so many. Never mind. Let's see…you would be well-suited to Gryffindor, wouldn't you? No, much too weak on the inside…_" Ebony grew angry during the evaluation. "What? You tattered piece of aged trash, you want to list my faults? Go look in the fucking mirror!" she growled. The hat heard her, but Dumbledore could not. "_Proud like a Slytherin—too cruel and brave for a Hufflepuff. Ooo, here's a pretty little piece of information. The daughter of Tom Riddle. Indeed, a Slytherin…but you have no ambitions...Any suggestions?_" "Can I not be in a House?" She felt the hat nod. "**_None!_**" it boomed, waking the cat, but not disturbing its complacency.

Ebony smiled, relaxed, and looked to the old Headmaster defiantly. He seemed undisturbed by this unnatural occurrence. "Then we'd best go and pick a room for you and your friend, yes?" He grinned slightly. "I will be your Head of House simply for simplicity's sake." A stern-faced woman entered the room, watching Ebony curiously as she set the hat back in the box, leaving as quietly as she had come. Minerva McGonagall trusted Dumbledore and would follow him without question, but this…this seemed to be an asinine decision that wouldn't have been made in his prime.

Dumbledore walked through the empty halls sure-footedly. "I suppose you'll have to be a prefect and watch yourself. You can decorate the room to your liking, but please, try to keep it neat," he said calmly as they approached a painting with a resting wolf pack. At the sound of their foot steps, a large, snow-coloured male woke and yawned. "Hello, Shikar. Elephant icing," Dumbledore grinned. The portrait swung open as Shikar resettled to his slumber. Ebony faltered slightly when she found her belongings were already in the room.

"You knew?" Ebony asked, looking up at her new Headmaster.

"I guessed. There's a book on the counter with a list of furnishing spells. Please, bear in mind that everything you receive leaves the store and is automatically billed to your new home. I trust you're responsible, though, Miss Rysiale," his bright blue eyes met hers and she placed Stranger on the ground. "Dinner awaits!" He grinned and lead the way to the Great Hall.

"Why had," she paused, fumbling for the name, "Haggard called me by David's surname and you call me by my mother's?"

"Hagrid assumed that was your last name because Mr. Fierrensia is the one that saw to your enrollment." They entered a room whose ceiling was endless. It was richly decorated and there were countless faces to be seen. Ebony brushed a few stray cat hairs off of her robes.

"Thank you, Professor," she murmured before setting off to find Hermione. It took a while, but she found the brunette between the chattering males from the train. She tapped Hermione's shoulder, uncertain of how one was supposed to treat an acquaintance-type friend. Hermione turned and smiled once her eyes met Ebony's.

"Shouldn't you be in line with the first years?" Ron asked spitefully.

"I've already been sorted."

"To which House?" Harry asked, curious.

"None. I have my own set of rooms which would be ideal for your Vandallite meetings and such if you'd care to use them."

Harry's gaze met Hermione's and she ignored his anger. "They're your meetings, too, Ebony. We're going to do this together, but we should probably start over. Ron, Harry…this is Ebony. Ebony, meet Ron and Harry." Ebony recalled Hermione's tolerance of visiting Draco and returned the favour by smiling awkwardly. Reluctantly, Ron and Harry shifted; making room for her and a plate appeared before her. Talk of quidditch seemed to be forever ago. Dumbledore started talking and everyone in the Hall fell silent. Draco's eyes found Ebony and he studied her, ignoring Pansy's hand on his thigh. He ignored Dumbledore's speech, knowing it was the same every year. He wasn't concerned about or with the rise of the Dark Lord. His family was more or less safe, so Dumbledore's warnings touched deaf ears. Clapping resonated as the speech reached its close. A round of cheers and claps swept the Slytherin table and Draco's attention snapped to the stage. Snape was grinning—a facial expression out of place on his pasty face.

He looked over at the Gryffindor table and they were staring at Dumbledore with disbelief as he announced the new potions master, Horace Slughorn. Draco pieced it together. If there was a new Potions master that meant that…He smirked up at Snape, pleased with the way things looked like they were going to be run this year.

Ron's world collapsed as the food began piling high on the plates before them. "How the bloody Hell could they give Snape his dream come true? The man's a raving lunatic. You don't give lunatics what they want. That's the first step to getting us all killed."

"I'm sure Dumbledore knows what he's doing," Harry frowned, trying to convince himself that what he said was true. "I hope he knows what he is doing."

"He seems to be a good guesser, at least," Ebony commented, uncertain of the issue. Hermione grin melted into a look of disgust as she watched Ron shovel food past his hungry lips.

"Hey, does anyone know why Malfoy keeps staring at our table?" a thin, red-headed girl asked as she placed a light hand on Harry's shoulder. Ebony looked up at Ginny with mild disinterest that she knew would have to change into the slight tolerance she had for Hermione's fellows.

"Ebony, this is Ron's sister Ginny," Harry flaunted a grin at Hermione, still not over her 'Ginny is never with us' comment. Ginny extended her hand, and Ebony took it, shaking it politely. Hermione's gaze wandered to meet Draco's and just as Ginny had said, he was watching them. She grinned slightly, feeling a surge of playfulness that wasn't normally associated with her. He looked away.

"Ron, do you think you could handle the first years?" she asked as she rose to her feet.

"Er, yea, I guess so…why?"

Hermione mind raced for excuses to leave with Ebony. "We should check on Stranger. He's probably not adjusted to being alone yet." Ebony arched a fine, dark eyebrow but stood compliantly. "It was…nice meeting you, Ginny." Draco's eyes followed Ebony as she stood, and Hermione grinned, grabbing Ebony's hand and leading her away. There was a crash at the Slytherin table, but Hermione didn't bother looking back. "It would figure that my first friend would be clinically insane," Ebony thought, her schooled features showing no signs of this opinion.

"We have to go to the base of the Slytherin staircase, I'll explain it on the way. Promise," Hermione grinned.

They walked through the dimly lit hallways quickly as Hermione explained it. The four were to be making a group called the Vandallites, akin to the Marauders—one of which had been Harry's father. The Marauders were pranksters and they had their fair set of enemies, namely Snape and Malfoy. Ebony reviewed this thoughtfully. Hermione claimed that Draco Malfoy had to be the target of their first official prank. Though the boys were to be considered Vandallites, too, Ron had the tendency to fumble spells and Hermione thought it would be cruel to leave him alone, so Harry got left behind as well.

The plan was presumably simple. They were going to shadow a Slytherin to get the password. But the shadows, this time, were literal. When they reached the bottom of the stairwell, Hermione pointed her wand at Ebony, "Daarkneszth." She felt the slow changes as her body changed to black vapor whose molecules somehow remained attracted to one another. She almost instinctively—though the instinct didn't seem to be hers—went for a wall, blending in with the background perfectly. Pleased with herself, Hermione repeated the spell in her own direction. Their shadowy bodies almost entwined. As Hermione had expected, Draco arrived with Pansy in tow. The Vandallites merged with the couple's shadows, following them up the stairs.

Draco growled, "Avedamorphine" as he dodged Pansy's hands and the portrait swung open. The shadows departed, Ebony's vapory corporal form leading the way to her rooms. Shikar's deep gray mate acknowledged them with a snarl, but when Ebony uttered, "Elephant icing," the portrait swung open without protest.

Two hours passed and they regained flesh and bone. The night was still young, but decorating needed to be done. They found Stranger fast asleep on a box of cat food, scratch marks across it indicating that he had attempted to open it. The girls let him sleep as they went to work, first making the rooms a soft green then adding the basic furnishings to match. The three-roomed set worked like a dormitory. There was a bedroom, bathroom, and study. The three together seemed to be the size of the Gryffindor Commons—an appropriate size for a girl and her cat.


	9. Chapter Eight: Within

As soon as the portrait closed behind them, Pansy dragged Draco to the couch. She lit the fireplace before curling into his lap, smothering him with her mass. "You're my betrothed, Draco," she grinned. For a moment the blonde stopped breathing. The mammoth in his lap didn't ease his surprise. He had spent a fair portion of his life knowing he was going to marry the miniature whale, but hearing that the deal was done and trade was passed made his blood run cold. She kissed him more gently than she had before but a wave of sickness washed over him. After a moment, he relaxed into the kiss, assuming that this was a touch he would have to adjust to. For the first time, he willingly reciprocated though his skin recoiled. His heart sipped a beat as he kissed her harder, forgetting how angry he should be with his mother. Pansy melted into her normally standoffish fiancée, pleased with her lie.

Narcissa had come to the Parkinson home, disbanding the arrangement with the wild idea that Draco needed to make his own decisions. If she could claim him tonight—even if just physically—it would be a progress towards marrying her ticket to the Malfoy Manor. Pansy smiled, knowing her interest in Draco was pecuniary. Her lips grazed his once more to keep a coy gleam in her eyes hidden.

Ebony woke to Stranger's paws on her stomach. She groaned softly, rolling over and tossing the cat's insistence out of mind. Without intention of causing harm, the cat bit his mistress, sending a small jolt through her body. She woke, however reluctantly, to feed the cat. As she poured mix into the bowl, she glanced at the schedule on the countertop that Dumbledore had gotten for her the day before.

She was uncertain as to what she wished to be in "adulthood," so she selected courses based on their general usefulness. Charms, potions, defense against the dark arts, and divination were the only classes she felt had material that could transfer themselves to any field.

She studied her schedule critically as she pulled on her school robes. Her skills with divination weren't particularly great nor did she have any real desire to advance her abilities, but some of the devine arts helped clear a clouded mind. Stranger was fed before she traced her way back to the Great Hall. The cat tried to follow, and for the sake of a warm body's closeness, Ebony was tempted to bring him with her.

Harry and Ron seemed happier to see her at breakfast than they had the night before. "I hear you have the Slytherin password," Ron grinned. Ebony hesitated before recalling that Hermione had pooled them all together in one group. She nodded before sitting beside the redhead.

"What was it like at Lyresaion?"

"Fine, I suppose. I miss it, but sometimes change is a good thing." Her reply came out soft, her protest against change having collapsed at last. She settled into her chair, losing herself to memories as Harry and Ron spurred a conversation on their own. Hermione had told her not to expect her at breakfast. That warning had been enough to dissolve Ebony's interest in the male Vandallites.

The past didn't seem to hold that much value though it was eternally running through her mind. She had filled in the missing fragments of her memories, immersing herself within them. Sometimes, she swore she could recognize her father's face though she hadn't seen him once in life. She spent years filling in the gaps until it all made sense. Her first memory was of anger. Some brute of a wizard had tried implanting a ghost in her teddy bear. He assumed she'd like a falsely animate bear and her mother had given him permission without asking her opinion. When he anger swelled, his lips shrank to nonexistence, sparing Mr. R. Iddle Bear from any potential unearthly arm. She sighed, falling back into the present as students began to rise and leave.

Draco awoke beside Pansy's bared flesh. The look of accomplishment was writ across her face as she lay in the tranquil depths of slumber. He crawled out of bed, still weary from the night's events. Sunlight streaming along his dark green walls startled him as he became fully aware of the time. The brief panic attack eased itself when he realized he had Defense Against the Dark Arts first. The luxury of having Snape beneath his thumb was brilliant, and he was pleased to find that he could ready himself at his leisure. He didn't bother waking Pansy as he showered and dressed, leaving his pseudo-bride-to-be without true care.

Hermione had locked herself in the library to find everything she could about animagi. The selection was limited, but it made sense that if Rita Skeeter could do it, it was possible for anyone. Every book she read claimed that everyone had an inner animal of wild. This being was a reflection of not only soul but self—something very few people own. The first step to animagism, which seemed to extend into its own philosophy, was meditation and communication with said inner beast. She looked the book over and wondered if she had made a decision in haste. The endeavor was one she knew she could master, but it would take time that she should be putting into her studies. It came to pass that species-shifting abilities could prove themselves useful and she settled to gorge herself with new information—imprinting every instruction to memory.


	10. Chapter Nine: Incomplete

"Draco and Hermione, how wonderful for you to join us. Twenty points from Gryffindor for tardiness. Ten from Slytherin," Snape murmured as they entered together. Ebony arched a fine, dark eyebrow before raising her hand. Snape looked at her as Draco closed his agape mouth and took his seat with the calm, indifferent air he was notorious for. Hermione made her way to Harry's side with a little less grace.

"Yes, Miss Rysiale?" Snape asked, his eyebrow arching as appropriately.

"If two counter spells are equally ineffective against a curse, would it be advised to value one over the other?"

"I don't have time for useless questions, Miss Rysiale. Please, make your point," Snape spat, knowing the girl was intelligent enough to answer her own question.

"Why would two people equally late have differing punishments? I beg your pardon, Sir, this is for the sake of curiosity for to my understanding a punishment is only as valuable as its consistency, and your rationale is of my utmost interest as you're one of the few teachers I think I'll get a decent lesson from this term."

Draco drew his breath slowly as his classmates' jaws found themselves on the floor. "Curiosity killed the cat," Snape drawled slowly, his surprise drowned by his even tone.

"But the cat's flattery and insistence bid the gods to give it nine lives," Ebony smirked, undeterred.

Draco wondered if Snape was going to learn not to argue with this girl the way he did. Her misleading questions and statements could drive a man crazy. Snape relaxed as his quick wit was never failing. "If you belonged to a House your insolence would be punished, but thankfully for the four, they don't have to deal with your want for point reduction."

"Thankfully for me, I can't wrongfully punished because of a bias," she quipped in return. Everyone knew the greasy haired professor had a certain favouritism reserved for his house, but no one had called him out on it.

"Go to Dumbledore's office and don't return until you've learned your manners, Miss Rysiale." Ebony's eyes flashed a dark and dangerous shade of amethyst; she left the room without another word. The class was quiet as the professor reclaimed their attention, beginning the lesson without her.

Ebony walked down the quiet hallways, hugging her books close to her body as she calmed down. She knew he was wrong. He knew he was wrong. She muttered and swore viciously about the division that she hated and apparently could do nothing about. She arrived at the old man's office, and he was already waiting in the lobby. She was disappointed with not being able to see his phoenix again, but she hid her dismay. "Professor Snape sent me."

"I assumed so. I suppose we need to have a talk. Please, take a seat."

The halls filled with students as the class ended. Dumbledore had explained Snape's personality to the best of his ability before giving her a smaller scale Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson that seemed to satisfy her before releasing her to join her classmates. Two more classes passed without any sort of troubles, and they were released for lunch. Ebony, Hermione, Harry, and Ron met beside the gaping doors of the Great Hall. "Why don't we eat outside today?" Hermione grinned, "We have to begin training to be Vandallites."

They received odd looks from their peers as they walked through the Hall. Neville watched the quartet with a mingling of jealousy and want as he stuffed and apple into his mouth. The lone klutz had heard the story about the girl who stood up to his least favourite professor and wondered what exactly it was that she was made of. Ron, Harry, and Hermione had managed to be the most famous crew in Hogwarts within their first year. As Neville watched the four leave, he wondered if Ebony gave them another reason to be infamous.

Professor Snape stormed into the headmaster's office, barely capable of containing his anger. "Who is she?"

"Who is who, Professor?" Dumbledore asked coolly. His moon-spectacle glasses glittered as the light reflected off of them.

"The girl who had the audacity to talk to me as though I was a small child stealing a cookie right before dinner. Is she a spy in the guise of a young girl? Did the Ministry want a quieter Umbridge? Why is she here? Who does she work for? And how long til she leaves?"

"She's a student with a lot to learn, Professor, but I, too, have a lot to learn, and it'd be best if I was left to do so. Voldemort's rise won't be without a trail. I must bid you farewell." With a cheeky, boyish grin, Dumbledore left Professor Snape in his quarters. After Snape was behind him, the grin faded and a wave of seriousness made the old man shudder with fear.

Hermione had instructed her three companions into meditation and they sat by the lake, quietly basking in the warmth of the day. Every time Ron fidgeted, Hermione sighed, proving that none of them were getting particularly far. After Occulency training, Harry had the easiest time finding himself within himself, but the difficulty he had when he first learn self control hadn't left.

The crunch of footsteps in the grass brought Ebony to her feet in seconds. Harry was up after she was, then Hermione, and last, Ron. "So the trio is recruiting," Draco smirked as he studied them.

"The trio has better taste in companions than some. How's your fiancée? Do her right yesterday?" Ebony's features melted into a striking coldness.

"How did you—" Draco glowered, stepping towards her.

"You have a fiancée? Who's desperate enough to want _you_?" Ron asked, bewildered but trying not to miss a beat.

"At least I've got better than a mudblood as a prospective wife," the blonde snarled.

"Hermione and Ron aren't in this, Malfoy," Ebony snapped, "This is you and me." Violet struck silver as she spat his last name. He didn't like the sound of it on her lips. "If you must sleep with the most vulgar being in the school after you, of course, it'd be hue of you to tell her to keep her mouth shut outside of the bedroom where it serves other uses."

"At least her mouth has a use. You talk and say nothing. You defend everyone and everything without any reason to care about them, giving you no credibility whatsoever. Why don't you just learn to stay quiet, and if you're a good girl, _you_ can open your mouth in my bedroom."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione put her hand over it gently before whispering softly against him, "I think she liked him more than we'd care to admit. Let them do it."

Ebony didn't waste time feeling hurt as she withdrew her wand. "Aquelira genitalia." She flicked her wand and grinned maliciously. "Good luck getting Pansy's mouth on that." She backed away, keeping her eyes steady on his before turning and heading back inside. Draco stood still and stunned, wetness flooding his pants. He winced slightly, knowing he couldn't check and see if he was still whole—not in front of the mudblood, Potter, and weasel. He gathered his dignity to the best of his ability and walked away, leaving them with their mouths agape.

"Ron, you know how I bumped at her at Diagon Alley?" Ron nodded, still struck with amazement. "Never let me do that again." They broke into a fit of laughter.


	11. Chapter Ten: When Hawks Fly

The first week of Hogwarts passed in a blur for all but eight. Draco, his men, and Pansy were in a silent war against the Vandallites who, with Hermione at the head for spell knowledge and Ebony at the head for creativity, were winning almost effortlessly. The teachers observed the battles with mild amusement, happy to see Harry in casual, normal trouble for once. Filch was not as humoured as the professors by their foul play which littered his precious hallways with anything from winged maggots to cream pies filled with toads. The first month of Hogwarts filled the students and teachers with a sense of safety from the outside world which apparently wasn't going too well. Newspapers claimed that Dark Marks and Death Eaters were more popular now, but there had been no sign of that in the enclosure.

After the first incident, Snape took to ignoring his violet-eyed pupil with sadistic glee. Despite him not answering her questions, however, she seemed to be as apt with her lessons as Hermione. He grimaced at the sight of her before one day chancing to see her outside of her rooms, pouring over his text book. "She's teaching herself," he growled and immediately sought to dispel this behaviour. "Accidents happen with spells you don't understand," he glowered down at her. She coolly stood and met her teacher's eyes.

"Accidents happen when one is ignorant," she responded, not in the least intimidated by a greasy, old man who needed a hobby.

"Ignorance mingled with curiosity can destroy a person—"

"Only when proper precautions aren't taken, Sir. I asked Professor Flitwick to teach me a spell dimming charm in case any counter spell I choose gets out of hand. Luckily for me, he answers questions when asked." As she finished her sentence, Hermione was rounding the corner and they spotted one another. Hermione's steps were hesitant at the sight of Snape, but she remained as confident as possible on the outside.

"Professor," Hermione nodded an acknowledgement before turning her attention to Ebony.

"If you don't mind, Professor, Hermione's tutoring me in Potions. I've been told you taught it prior, and in thus you should understand the diligence necessary to excel in it," Ebony smiled the most threatening polite smile she could muster and the professor murmured an, "Of course," before walking away.

"Elephant icing," Hermione said to Shikar. Though her wit was quick in a verbal battle, afterwards, the dark child always seemed to need a break from speaking. Her mind had wandered elsewhere and Hermione was well-acquainted with this. They walked in together, settling on the moss green couch. They passed the time in silence, and finally, Ebony broke it. "I found my animal. Shikar won't be a fan."

"What is it?" Hermione asked. Harry had found his to be a snake. Ron was still trying to figure out how to connect with his "inner beast," and she had been the first to connect with the golden eagle that lay dormant and heavy in her breast, awaiting a chance to be freed from an earthbound body now that it was found.

"Black panther," she sighed, closing her eyes and picturing it once more. "Tell me more of the Marauders we are aiming to emulate." She kept her eyes closed. She could feel its soft, but thick coat under her fingers. Its eyes were hers—an unnatural shade of purple—that's how she knew that she and it were the same.

"I suppose Harry could tell you better than I…they were pranksters, fun lovers who weren't a fan of Professor Snape. They were intelligent, though. You've never met Ron's brothers, but…they are a set of twins. They love a good laugh. Fairly harmless…but extraordinarily funny. And talented."

Ebony nodded, accepting the explanation. "Are the boys coming tonight?"

"I told them not to. I wanted to start working on actually changing shape. Ron can't sit still and that just makes everything harder," Hermione grinned.

"Before we begin…isn't this supposed to take years of work and training?"

"Yes…and I think…that you and I…and Harry are exceptional wizards which is why we get on with it more easily than the average wizard…like…"

"Ron," Ebony said thoughtfully, completing the sentence.

"I don't mean it the way it sounds," Hermione sighed. Silence swept the room. There was a soft shuffling of feet that caught Ebony's attention. She moved off of the couch towards the noise, and while pretending to reach for a book on the table, she swept the invisibility cloak off of Ron and Harry. Her eyes flashed, but she didn't pull her wand out against them. Uncovered, the male Vandallites stood still like deer in the presence of headlights before Ron lost it.

"How the bloody hell do you mean it, then?" he glowered, his face quickly matching his hair in redness.

"She probably meant that you aren't as much a fan of…studying as we are. I mean, she's read through the entirety of all of her text books. I read two chapters ahead of everything except Potions…and Harry studies while he practices for Quidditch—something he does often enough for it to make a difference in his scores. I've never seen you touch a text outside of class and homework, making you a less able wizard because you get less practice," Ebony answered for her friend, knowing that she meant what she said as she had said it. "While we're all here, we can each try to see if we can change…whether we can or cannot, afterwards, we'll see if we can get you in touch with your other half, all right, redhead? Don't blow a gasket." As she talked, Ron calmed. Hermione shot Ebony a look of thanks. Ebony nodded and sat on the head of the couch. "Hermione, let's see if you deserve your marks in Transfiguration."

Hermione sat the way she did when she meditated and visualized her eagle. She saw herself with it, and gently she caressed its beak with her forefinger's knuckle. Its eyes closed and the darkness around them shivered as it stepped towards her. When they opened again, Hermione was seeing through them as she stood on the soft carpet of Ebony's make shift Commons. Her piercing eyes held the others' gazes. Immediately, she felt compelled to take to the sky. Though she knew there was no sky here, longing filled her and she beat her wings, but her hooked talons were caught in the carpeting. She flapped harder, threatening to tear it before Hermione gained control over her instincts and stood still.

She could feel the eagle's heart beating faster than her own would have before trying to focus and change back. The transformation was slow, but she did it. Once complete, though, she collapsed in a sweaty and tired heap. Ebony brushed the brunette's hair back. "Harry, if you would put her on my bed for me, please?" Harry nodded and complied, scooping the small brunette up. He was taller and stronger than he had ever been before, but the idea of something so fragile being in his care made him falter. He put her down in Ebony's bed softly, sliding a blanket over her.

After Ron seemed to find his beast (apparently a hedgehog), they parted ways. No one else dared to actually try to shift. Ebony changed Hermione with gentleness she was unused to holding for another before changing herself. She gradually fell asleep, hoarse whispers flooding her head with soft and dirty secrets of her father's crimes. Her panther killed the whisperers, though, and Ebony relaxed.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Call of Darkness

Percy watched the sun set. He closed his eyes as he gripped his upper arm. The dark mark on his shoulder burned with such white hot vehemence that the first few times he felt his lord's call, he fell to his knees, barely restraining tears as he wondered if the death of Harry Potter was truly worth it. The wind whipped his thick hair back and he turned on the ball of his heels, feeling the wind's lashings as his grip on his arm loosened. Percy wasn't the only one the dark lord called incessantly.

Severus Snape's dark mark burned with the same intensity, but he was used to the pain. Habituation was the only way to deal with Voldemort and maintain sanity simultaneously. He could feel his dormant master reawakening, and as each day passed, Severus improved his excuses for disloyalty. Only the insane wouldn't fear the death the ultimate evil would deliver.

The only bad consequence of Severus's pain was that his patience dissolved into nonexistence. No student noticed the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor continually losing colour of face—he was pale to begin with. His hair slowly lost its greasy sheen, but the workload he was placing on his students left them too busy to notice the gray circles forming under his cold eyes.

The students did notice, however, their headmaster's frequent disappearances from the school grounds and rumours swept the hallways like wildfire. Most concerned with the old man's disappearances was Professor McGonagall. She took care of Fawkes with considerable diligence as she awaited his return. Every time he came back from wherever his excursions lead him, his smoothly wrinkled skin was a touch more ashen; his brightly shining eyes lost a little more of their sparkle; and his fluid speech lost its gripping impact just a little bit more. Albus Dumbledore began spending more and more time in his rooms and rumours that spread across the school could scarcely be squashed away.

The young animagi were becoming more proficient with their changes as the bonds between the animal and the human that encased it became stronger. One day at Hogsmeade, the four took Ginny to a field and readily performed for her. Harry's new form scared her, bringing back memories of the basilisk and she shrieked, stumbling away. Hermione caught her and held her still as Harry changed back.

"It's just me, Gin," he murmured.

"You're a sodding snake. How is that 'just you?'" she glowered.

Ebony looked at the red head who was apparently allowed to know their secrets and studied her critically. She changed into a panther after slipping in the shadows and slunk forward silently. Her tail waved back and forth with a slow, languid impulse of its own. The moving, liquid shadow pounced upon Hermione with a playfulness not to be anticipated in almost two metres and one hundred and forty pounds worth of pure muscle.

Ginny shrieked like a living banshee as Hermione and Ebony tumbled towards the Whomping Willow. A happy growl escaped the cat's throat that would have been laughter were she in a human body. Hermione pet Ebony lightly before shoving her off. "Way to scare Ginny senseless." The panther grinned in reply as she nuzzled her head into Hermione's hand. Ron raced over to check on Hermione, only to find her playfully mocking Ebony before taking to air. Her feathers glittered in the sunlight and a game of tag ensued between the beasts of air and earth. Ebony ran towards the Whomping Willow and skillfully mastered its branches, moving faster than they could as she caught Hermione's height and leapt only to miss her mark. She landed on a branch of the willow when it was in mid-attack and tumbled down. Ron watched the girls' game, wanting to join before realising there was little a hedgehog could do against a hawk and melanistic jaguar.

He turned and left them to their folly, returning to his sister and best friend. They were conversing, discussing animagism. Ginny seemed calmed and as he approached them, they seemed not to notice his arrival until he was on them, smack in the centre of the conversation.

"Won't Dean get jealous?" Ron asked, arching a bushy, red brow. A wave of concern over their closeness washed over him, but he let it pass as Ginny reminded him that Dean had nothing to be jealous of. Harry ignored them, "We should get going," he interjected. He gave a sharp whistle that stopped the hawk and cat's game of tag. Ebony leapt out of the Willow's reach before separating herself from her panther and changing back. Hermione followed suit, her hawk's cry getting mangled as she landed and obtained a human throat.

Both girls were panting heavily, laughing at each other silently while they gathered themselves together. They decided to take the hidden hallway back inside, though Ginny left them to join her fellow and take the normal route. A pang of jealousy struck Harry and fled away as they slipped into the coolness of the invisibility cloak, its limits being stretched by four.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Hunting Plans

A figure stood in the shadows, calmly watching the night pass him by. Silence surrounded him and darkness flooded him, the two pressures finding equilibrium in a body torn from its soul. Madness flickered in dark, soulless eyes as he relaxed, settling into his world. He grinned wickedly as he watched Percy walk with quick steps into his new apartment. Before the moon could catch the glint of his teeth, he apparated into the young Weasley's new home.

Percy froze when he turned on the lights, only to find the bold favourite of Voldemort in his living room. Some death eaters had told him that this fellow looked strikingly similar to the Dark Lord in his prime, but the only similarity Percy could see between the two was a strong, unerring lust for power. His heart calmed but he still had the blatant refusal to meet his intruder's eyes.

"He has a message for you," Daemon murmured softly. His fingers straightened the black collar that he wore to display that only he was his master. Percy smirked, knowing the dark mark on his arm said otherwise.

"Having fun playing messenger?" Percy asked coolly, diminishing the fear in his heart with every word.

"Tons. It leaves me knowing that when the war begins I won't be on the front lines," Daemon replied. "At any rate, the rest of your family is awfully close to Mr. Potter. It'd be of utmost usefulness if you got along with your family for five minutes and got some information. Friends…weaknesses…you know what we're looking for, I'm sure. Unless of course…that's giving you too much credit…"

"Why is Harry Potter our main concern?"

"I don't suppose you've ever lived with muggles despite your father's fancies."

"My father's a fool."

"You don't have to tell me what I already know. But in muggle history there's a fellow named Hitler. He wanted his little group to have power, but before he could secure it and be in a true predator's state…he had to patch up all the errs his countrymen made the first time around. Harry Potter was His mistake, but Harry…he doesn't have any real power. All of it is derived from those around him, and _that_, Weasley, is what we want. Make sure you get it." Without another word, another blink, or flash of emotion, Daemon apparated away, leaving Percy alone for the night.


	14. Chapter Twelve and a Half: Demon Settler

Daemon sat on Voldemort's window sill. The pair sat in a brooding silence, each contemplating his rise to power. Daemon's eyes were a deep, and dark liquor-coloured gold, and flickering touches of pale green dotted themselves around his pupils. "Do you think Weasley can get the job done?" Voldemort asked his apprentice quietly, his voice a hushed whisper that didn't fail to send icy chills through the night.

Daemon thought carefully before his answer. "I believe him to be incompetent, but my faith in you is unwavering, my Lord."

Voldemort's snakelike eyes glittered. "Hogsmeade…would you care to live there?" Daemon studied his master quietly. The fact that the words, "would you care" were uttered didn't mean that he actually had options, and he knew this well. He contemplated the move. An undercover operation was always a plus, but the happy people of Hogsmeade were negatives beyond negatives. A quiver of Voldemort's impatience coursed through the air. 

"I'd be honoured," Daemon answered, knowing full and well that this was the response he was going to give any way. "How do I get to Potter?"

"Virginia Weasley. She's weak, she's soft, she's malleable, and she's bound to him by love." Daemon considered this and drifted away in the coaster of his own thoughts. He figured, according to Voldemort's normal way of operation he had just short of a week.

And so it was done, within a week, Daemon was a member of the Hogsmeade community. He'd been hired by Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop and settled into the Hog's Head quite nicely. No one questioned his sudden presence, and as he had come to understand, the genetically well designed were rarely burdened with annoying questions. 

Professor Snape's class was becoming more rigorous by the day, taxing even Hermione, but she kept quiet about it. She felt as though he was preparing the best of the class for something, and signs of the rise of You-Know-Who were in every newspaper. Her classmates groaned in protest as each lesson brought their marks to a new low point. His traditional sneer only seemed to have the mark of glee in it as his students' collective tension and fury rose.

Sixth and seventh years were dropping his class like a bad habit, and his sneer grew to borderline smile as he taught his remaining students with ferocity, their assignments piling high. Dumbledore, despite his intuition, simply perceived Serverus's behaviour the way Hermione did—as a preparation for Voldemort's rise and let the idiosyncratic actions slide. 


	15. Chapter Thirteen: Feathers of Steel

Trips to Hogsmeade turned into routine training sessions for the four Vandallites. They experimented with a variety of spells and charms (courtesy of Hermione), who found in this year that she enjoyed merging the Old Language with new bits and ends from English, creating a strong variety of effective spells. Their war on Malfoy and his cronies was nearing its peak. Mid-class, a student could anticipate Draco bearing pigtails or worse (or better—depending on how you look at it), Pansy with a pig tail. Once, the young Malfoy threw a growth charm at Hermione's breast, laughing maliciously as they rapidly grew. Ebony knew the countercharm, and used it quickly before sending her rare attack in Draco's direction. He spent the rest of the day with rabbit ears before having no choice but to go to Madame Pompfrey in a tizzy.

Ebony made the conscious decision to throw most of her efforts at Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle seemed far too stupid for her to enjoy their surprise and misery, and for some unknown reason, she was stuck on the fact that once upon a time, Draco had been kind. Her comrades noticed her efforts towards Pansy and held no complaints as it was indeed one of the funniest sights to see Pansy try to find the source of a gnat that plagued her mercilessly one day, stinging her over and under repeatedly, reminiscent of Hera's attacks upon Io.

Fun and games came to halt when Ebony was purchasing a new quill at Hogsmeade. As she browsed the many tips and colours, a queer, spiraling quill with an amber-tipped feather sparked her interest, and she studied it closely. She turned to find the ink well that went with it, but failed to see any that fit the curve of the tip perfectly (as all professional quills and wells do). She began studying the ink well rows top to bottom, uncertain as to why she was so obsessed with this quill. As her intent search continued, Pansy happened to enter the shop, and found the perfect opportunity for retribution. "laviosa quills," she murmured, before using her wand to encourage five forward, digging sharply into the nape of Ebony's neck.

The sudden rush of pain forced her to jump forward, toppling shelves of ink and the ceramic containers. They all exploded around the dark witch before she retrieved herself, her eyes darkening to a dangerous shade of purple before she turned to face her adversary. She murmured a binding spell before walking over to Pansy calmly. She dipped each of her fingertips into some ink before slapping Pansy roughly across the face, dragging her nails along her cheek hard enough to break flesh, the trail of ink mingling with Pansy's blood and darkly staining her cheeks.

Pansy made no move, but on the inside, her heart was racing. As Ebony extracted the quills from her neck, her heart pounded with fear. An audience had formed around the shop and instead of gouging out her classmates eyes with the quills as she wished, Ebony broke them in half and stalked off, leaving Pansy in a state of paralysis.


	16. Chapter Fourteen: Outcasts

With a complex system of mirrors, Ebony studied the star-shaped scar in soft skin between her shoulder blade and the arch of her neck. The skin was red, and the small dots proved to be irritating though not quite painful. She had heard from Hermione that Dumbledore gave Pansy weeks of detention under his supervision. Hermione also shared the unfortunate news that she, too, had earned detention for scarring Pansy. Her method of slapping would leave Pansy with a permanent tattoo-like scar where her nails had dragged across her cheek. She Stranger gently, noticing for the first time, the blood beneath her fingers. She sighed softly. Her punishment was less pathetic and more useful. She would be working at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop until all the damage was repaid. She left her cat and washed her hands slowly, the sound of rushing water calming her anger slightly.

She left the faucet running as she dried her hands absentmindedly on a stray shirt, heading for her old jewelry box. She picked up the small diamond ring David had gotten her and slipped it on a long, silver chain. It was put on clumsily, but she sighed softly. "Do you want to go for a walk, Love?" she asked, turning to her cat. He looked up at her blankly, and she grinned, finding a thin rope and tying it to the makeshift collar that was Draco's rejected present. "Let's be off."

She moved to all fours before shifting shape. The necklace choked her slightly as her neck became larger, testing the chain's limits. She blinked slowly, adjusting to a world where every sight, sound, and smell wasn't beyond her reach. She picked up Stranger the way a mother would her kitten and moved—shadow by shadow—to the passageway that lead out to the bank of the lake. The pads of her feet were soft, not even the photographs were perturbed by her presence. Stranger understood that this was a time for silence, and he rarely got the chance to take a trip outside, so he behaved, settling limply between jaws that could crush him if they so chose.

Dawn approached quickly this Friday morning. Pink, orange, purple, and yellow stretched across the sky, urging a soft shade of blue to present itself. Ebony had long since changed back to a more human form, and was walking Stranger idly. She felt no want for breakfast, for classes, for her friends, or for her enemies. For now, she just wanted to be alone—to be lost in a world that wouldn't remember her when she passed through.

Ron woke up groggily, stumbling out of bed only to find that he was the only one in his room. He went on a quest for Harry, checking their rooms thoroughly before heading over to the Great Hall and searching there. He finally found Harry, and Hermione, too, cornering Draco. "Do you think you scare me, Potter?" Draco glowered. "You and your fucktard mudblood can go snog at the bottom of the lake for all I care." Hermione gasped sharply before edging in between Harry and Draco, kneeing the latter soundly in the stomach, barely missing her first choice. He opened his mouth and slowly inhaled, schooling himself to not give her the satisfaction of his pain.

"Listen to me, Malfoy. You and your crew are a waste of our time. We've got better things to do than worry about what pricks like you do in your free time. The pranks are off. Your girlfriend took it too far. If you continue this, we won't respond lightly. Is that clear?"

"I only make verbal contracts with purebloods. Where's your Weasle? Even for all his uselessness, he's got a few steps above you."

"As useless as he may be, he's still a few steps above you," Hermione snarled. Ron's eyes flickered with hurt. Did she find it absolutely necessary to belittle him when she was unaware of his presence? "Stupid mudblood," Ron murmured, startled by his own anger as he walked away. Leaving his supposed best friends to deal with their most by themselves.

He settled in the Great Hall beside Ginny as he piled a plate high. Ginny flushed, abashed by her brother's nearness. She gripped Dean's hand tightly under the table where it relaxed on her hip before letting it go. Dean understood and drew his hand away as covertly as possible. Ron noticed the movement just barely, but didn't bother making a remark. He grit his teeth as his appetite fell away.

"What's wrong?" Ginny sighed, only concerned because she naturally assumed her brother's loss of appetite was her doing.

"Nothin, Gin. I think I'm just going to go get ready for class. See you later. And Dean, if I ever find you touching my sister that way 'gain, I'll break each of your fingers before cutting them off. Clear?"


	17. Chapter Fifteen: Secrets Unleashed

Albus Dumbledore held his fury as Serverus informed him that Ebony had failed to show up for class, but hadn't informed him of dropping it. He had expected better things from the girl—at least her father's resilience. But as a search around the castle brought to his attention the fact that she was nowhere to be seen, his fury came full force. It was the first time the vast majority of the staff had seen his shell of security shatter.

Percy swore under his breath as he knocked on the Burrow's front door. His mother opened it wearily. He could see the hurt in her eyes as her eyes swept over him, and was thankful that he thought to wear long sleeves. He had grown vaguely accustomed to being the only person in his life, the rare few who dodged in and out of his day were his fellows who could care less about the mark on his arm. He gave his best smile, knowing he only had one shot at this.

"Yes, Percy?" she asked quietly, not standing aside to let him in.

"I came to apologise for this summer…It was awfully immature of me," he said, his smile turning sheepish at his command. "_I'm not at all sorry_," he thought, his sheepish grin never fading. Molly looked at him curiously, but stepped aside, and he entered.

_If I had known you wished to be wed to Pansy, I wouldn't have broken the engagement, Love. Her parents must be furious with me, I'm sure. I'll fix everything, Draco, darling. I'll also have a talk with David about his little girl. _

_Love you always,_

_Narcissa_

Draco read the letter over in shock. "If I had known you wished to be wed to Pansy, I wouldn't have broken the engagement." The words glared at him in his mother's favourite blue ink. He traced the letters, and the oils from his skin made them smear a little. "That little no-good tramp lied to me," he growled. He stood before sitting down, realising that this was for the best. She didn't have to know that he knew the truth, and she would readily continue being physically satisfying…though he was fairly certain he could do better.

Hermione's knee had left a decent sized bruise on his lower abs, so he had locked himself in his rooms when classes had ended. The staff had been in a flurry about some student's disappearance, and they were even more scared because she took her pet with her, leading some to conclude she had no intent upon returning. No one's sure how she escaped, but Draco didn't really care enough to find out who the missing person was and where she went. The world out there was crazy—after all, Voldemort was out there. She'd come back eventually.

Albus pinched his nose as he inhaled sharply, standing before the Hogwarts teachers and staff. His grave expression, and slate blue eyes that failed to sparkle with some secret no one could identify. "Were she any other student, the situation would be just as dire, but because she happens to be the daughter of Voldemort, we have an extremely large issue."

There was a chill as he spoke his name in the calm, cool way he tended to. All but Professors McGonagall and Snape flinched at the sound.

"Are you certain?" Professor Snape asked, thankful for his unreadable features.

"Absolutely positive."

"Then why don't we just leave her to die," he suggested, grinning slightly.

"When one passes one's blood to another, there is an uncanny internal knowing when the two meet…In this case, a paternal-progeny bond. Though neither may not be able to sense it at first, he will quickly come to realise who and what she is. Voldemort is not the dumbest criminal 'on the block' as I've heard the children say. Then he can use her. None of you who have her can deny her knack and aptitude for your classes. She has to be found by us before anyone else."

The teachers murmured amongst themselves, and the headmaster could read them all like open-paged books. Miss Rysiale was now going to be the most unfairly judged student in Hogwarts. He winced, deciding that once she was found, depending on her treatment, he would use memory charms on his comrades.

Memo

Sorry for the erratic updating. I made a deal with my boyfriend. For every update he makes on DeviantArt, I'd match it with a new chapter in Within the Ebony flame. Actually, he's drawing her for me and he rocks hardcore. So my update schedule officially depends on him. Thank you for your support and everything, I'm really glad you like the story. Especially you, Lilith…your reviews give me an awesome incentive.

It wouldn't let me post the link for the picture of Ebony thus far, but I'll try to find a way to put it in somewhere 'cause...I love it.

I'll be writing even when he doesn't update so I can put them up faster. He draws faster than I can write (as he so prudently pointed out), but as soon as I finish this, I'm putting a lot of my attention into a work of my own (that I'm having great difficulty with) and outlining plots for his characters (who are also on his Deviant Art page). This should be done by his birthday (it's in the first week of July)…and I'm sorry for the ridiculously long memo. - Love - Cassie


	18. Chapters Sixteen through Twenty

_He updated. The way I see it, every chapter is usually about two and a half pages, but because these are a series of events that all occur in a set time frame, it'll be about a page a piece…instead of posting five separate chapters, I'll just post them as a unit. S'my goal anyway. Each chapter will, of course, have its title mentioned and everything._

Chapter Sixteen: When Darkness Falls…

Daemon listened to Serverus with blank eyes and an empty stare that made the older man falter. Voldemort had a daughter and Dumbledore had lost her. The girl he spoke of, though, was the one he had met in the quill shop and nothing seemed to be special or even thought-provoking about her. Aside from her eyes. They were purple—violet—maybe darker or lighter…he couldn't tell from that single glance. They were deep. But she bore no real resemblance of her father—and she didn't reflect his greatness. Her movements hadn't been precise enough, her vengeance hadn't been cold enough—she bled and her retaliation was to simply slap the girl and stalk away. If she had power, she kept it hidden, guised under the façade of the average, teenage witch. Daemon was bored with her already.

Albus Dumbledore began leaving the campus more frantically. He was determined to find her before Death Eaters did, and Minerva McGonagall watched him without the power to do anything about his suddenly irrational behavior. Hagrid was sent to comb the forest, and Fang followed in tow, but with every passing day, chance of finding her became nigh null. The only thing Firenze would say was something about the moon's eclipse being near and blackness rising on this night. But as days folded into weeks, the search became less frantic—all assuming that by now she was dead.

Some professors believed her disappearance to be a good thing. You-Know-Who's spawn running around Hogwarts halls didn't seem to bode well with many of them. They kept their whispers from the students ears on their headmaster's request—no, it wasn't really a request. It was a command.

Until one night, two weeks from the incident, Ebony resurfaced. It was Hagrid who found her, watching Stranger fish in the pond. She seemed as healthy and as sane as ever, well-adjusted to the forest and its wildlife. She had her wand with her and she seemed to have been fairly dutiful in practicing charms, for as she watched her silver cat, she drew her wand, changing small aspects of her environment. A stone moved here, the wind blowing harder there, the shadows growing everywhere, and so on. When her eyes met his, she didn't try to fight. She simply grinned, and scooped up her pet, walking over to the half-giant cordially, as if she had done nothing wrong at all.

Chapter Seventeen: …It Must Also Rise

Albus looked at Ebony over his half-moon glasses as she pet Fawkes without any external worry or fear of punishment. The calmness behind her eyes was striking, almost chilling, but he did not unveil this to her. The headmaster watched his phoenix, curious as to why the picky creature would let someone who caused his master so much distress touch him.

"Do you know who your father is, Ebony?"

Ebony turned and looked at her teacher calmly. "I have none, Sir. A father is the man who raises you and teaches you how to ride your first bicycle—perhaps tricycle. He's the one who makes sure there aren't any boggarts or bogeyman in your closet, and he's the one who kisses you goodnight and reads you stupid bed time stories you believe you're too old to hear. What I have instead, Professor Dumbledore, is a murderer who is bound to me by blood. Nothing more and nothing else."

"I can understand your sentiments, Ebony, but you don't seem to understand—"

"No, Sir, you cannot. None of your blood relations are or have been the ultimate evil. None of your classmates would have had the chance to hate you for the sheer fact that your relative was the cause of his parents death. I've looked Harry Potter every day all year, Professor. Imagine if I so told him. Imagine…how quickly any form of friendship we had would fade…" her voice dropped as Stranger jumped from the bookcase to her shoulder, seeking a closer look at the mystical bird. He extended a paw towards it and Fawkes unleashed a flaming fury that forced him to not only jump away, but hide under the table with chocolates.

"I _do_ understand, Miss Riddle. Whether or not you believe it to be so. Either way, your vacation is now over, and I believe you owe Scrivenshaft your service. As well as your teachers a lot of make up work. Don't tempt me to put you in a House so you can be watched appropriately if you fail to keep up with either. And it is a pleasure to have you back again."

"What did you call me?"

"Your father's surname. Naturally, it is your own. It is another one of those 'whether or not you believe it to be so' situations. Your teachers are currently informed of your peculiar situation. Instead of returning to the state where they were blind to it, I believe it'd be best for you if they remained that way." Ebony glowered at the white-haired man who was doing an excellent job at masking the difficulty he had saying what he did the way he did. She walked away with Stranger walking steadily in her shadow, hoping to never have to see the batty old man ever again. Her fingers drew over the scar on the back of her neck. The skin was softer there, and she wanted to be angry—but she wasn't. She would have to let that be the difference between her and her father. He was an angry person who felt the world—who felt life—had been unfair to him. She had promised herself when she learned of him that she wouldn't be the same.

Chapter Eighteen: A Demon's Night of Folly

That night, Ebony skipped dinner. She had been permitted to not go to class and to think about what she had done by Professor McGonagall who tried to make the weeks of punishment easier on the girl, so she had yet to catch up with her friends, but she went straight to Scrivenshaft's to begin working straight away.

As she stepped in, she tripped over a basket of new feathers, and though she caught herself, a few ink wells fell off the counter and shattered upon contact with the terra cotta flooring. "How reminiscent of your last visit," Daemon murmured darkly. His hair fell into his eyes as he tossed her a broom, and she caught it effortlessly.

"Can I just pay for the damage I've done as opposed to working here?"

"I believe Dumblebitch sent a memo to your step-father about not paying up because this was something you needed to work for," he growled, it was almost a purr. He was happy she was miserable.

"I believe if you ever call him that again I'll—"

"You'll slap me? I don't think so. Unlike your little quill-throwing friend, I have reflexes to my name. Though I suppose it is typical for a cow to be a touch on the slow side."

"Where's Scrivenshaft?"

"He's actually out. His wife is ill with something or another," he paused as he grinned maliciously, "You, however, you'll be working for me."

"I'll be sure to mark my calendar, making sure I'm aware that this is the happiest day of my life," Ebony spat. She waved her wand in the direction of the dropped wells, and the fragments collected themselves into a pile far faster than she could have with a broom.

"You may as well begin with organising. I know you're quite talented at making a mess, but please, try to defy your nature just this once, and straighten the shelves as opposed to knocking them down."

Ebony glowered, muttering every derogatory name she could think of as she stiffly followed his orders, mechanically rearranging the ink wells to their appropriate position. Though the exercise didn't utilize any real energy, keeping herself sane as she kept her actions short of murder took everything she had.

Chapter Nineteen: Something Soft…

Ebony returned to the castle with Daemon as her escort. She found out his name despite her refusal to speak to him. She found it appropriate as she considered him her personal demon. The hour was late, but the odds and ends he came up with were borderline ridiculous, and when things were going too quickly for his liking, he barred her from using magic. In fact, he had informed her that she was not to bother bringing her wand tomorrow, but she had no intention of complying.

She barely remembered the password for Shikar, but he seemed happy enough to see her, so he let her in despite her botching it up. Inside her room, Hermione was already there fast asleep, clinging to a pillow as though it was her form. Ebony sat on her bed, and gently shook Hermione into the world of the awakened. Hermione's tone became healthy as she flushed with colour, hugging Ebony tightly to her, surprising them both.

"So I take it, I was missed?" Ebony grinned slightly, finally having found a reason to be back.

"If you ever do that again, I'll implant a homing device in you while you're sleeping," Hermione grinned, hugging her tighter. "We were all worried—even Ron."

"How _have_ you and Ron been getting on?

"He's actually been edgy lately, but he spends more time with Percy now. He tells him most everything. Or at least, I suppose he does. He doesn't talk to Harry and me so much anymore."

"Harry and I?"

"No, it's definitely Harry and me. Were Harry not a part of the verb's object, it would not be said 'he doesn't talk to I,' it is, 'he doesn't talk to me' and that's simply how it works," Hermione quipped.

Ebony grinned, "It is indeed." She yawned as Stranger settled into the bed between them. Her hand rested on Stranger's head, and before it could slide back, she was asleep. Hermione watched Ebony rest a while before she, too, returned to sleep, her fears and worries a part of the past.

Chapter Twenty: A Bit of Class

Severus Snape watched Ebony closely upon her return. This girl was his lord's daughter, and she was unbeknownst to him. He quivered slightly with excitement. Voldemort would want her well trained.

They were reading today and doing little more. Before they could fight a dragon, they had to learn its weaknesses, and the only way to do so without onfield experience was to read. His four remaining students were insanely bored with the material—all except for Hermione. Even Ebony was losing interest for she had already read the chapter long ago, and she found reading the same thing twice neither amusing nor reinforcing.

Harry, however, was suffering from the reading most of all. All of his experiences with dragons had been interesting. Norbert was a ball of chaos, but flying against that dragon in the Triwizard Tournament had been a brilliant experience. His thoughts drifted, re-enacting the dragon-flight, though he did try to refocus. But every time he read the word "dragon" his mind would shift again. His hand twitched to grip a broom handle. The least the world could do was give him a Quidditch match to play in.

The last person of their class, Draco Malfoy wasn't paying attention to the book at all. He had no intention on fighting or killing dragons. Nor did he have any plans for setting foot in dragon lands where the prospect of battle was almost inevitable. His body was hungry—perhaps thirsty—he wasn't certain. Pansy was no longer fulfilling, especially with the nasty scar on her cheek as proof of her weakness. Even as she redoubled her efforts, trying to keep his interest, she failed. Her touch could not excite him—not that it ever truly had—and after weeks of utter satisfaction, the sudden failure he found displeasing. Even the mudblood seemed like a good option. In her favour, she wasn't half-whale and her only flaw was that she was half human.

Professor Snape watched the four of them closely, his trademark sneer growing whenever his eyes roved over the raven-haired girl. He would have to introduce her to her father—even if it was only in the land of dreams. His eyes turned to Harry. Voldemort's presence apparently gave the boy nightmares and headaches. He phased in and out of a glower. That stupid boy lacked self control.

Memo:

These chapters are, like, over a week overdue. It really is my fault. School and stuff.


	19. Chapter TwentyOne: Just Friends

Ron and Percy sat in the Hogs Head Inn. The brothers were closer now than they had ever been in their lives, with more than their red hair, freckles, and pointed faces to tell any passerby that they were kin. Percy had adjusted to plastering a fake smile on when he was naïve and ambitious, working for the Ministry. It seemed so long ago, and he felt much older now, as he looked to his younger brother and half-listened to his prepubescent plight.

"Look, Ron, if you want Hermione and you think this girl's getting in the way, challenge the girl and win. I don't know much of love, but girls are impressed by that sort of thing."

"But what if Hermione doesn't like her the way it just looks as though she does, you know?"

"They share a bed. They create spells together and they spend most every waking moment together. Do you really need more proof than that? Or would you rather wait til their snogging in a hall and you stumble upon them to take action. By that time, it'll be far too late, Ron. One must act swiftly in these situations."

"Percy," Ron paused, looking up at his brother, "what if I lose?"

"Then hope this girl damaged you enough that Hermione takes pity upon you and rushes to aid in the healing of your wounds and pride."

"I don't like the way things have changed, Percy…I really don't."

"Change isn't all bad, Ron. Some changes make you stronger." His fake smile faded and died. He couldn't pull it to resurface, so he let it be, turning slightly so the shadows masked him kindly. "Now tell me, how is your friendship with Harry doing?"

"He actually, also, spends a lot of time with Hermione. He's been working with Dumbledore since Ebony's disappearance. Says he can't tell me why…but they leave together."

Percy laughed to himself, barely stopping himself from uttering, "I knew Dumbledore had a thing for that little prick." He grinned, smiling again, "Ron, you should start heading back." He handed his younger brother his wand and stood. "It was a pleasure to see you—as always."

Ron left, drawing his brother's wand over and under his fingers smoothly. His step had a bounce of confidence in it. He was going to find Miss Rysiale and challenge her. When he was done with her, he was going to claim Hermione as his own, and it was going to be the most romantic thing the brunette had ever seen. Viktor Krum was going to look ridiculously lame. He walked towards the field where they normally practiced, and found Ebony and Hermione playing hide and go seek. They took turns changing animals, and hunting for the other. "Pathetic," Ron murmured as he stepped into the middle of the game.

Hermione was in mid-dive and she quickly angled herself around Ron before riding a brush of wind back upwards. Her wings beat twice before she dove into the shadows once more, her talons outstretched before she landed lightly—almost delicately—on Ebony's shoulder.

Ebony arched an eyebrow as she studied Ron and his entrance. She nodded in acknowledgement as Hermione quickly changed. Her feathers melted together, presenting a nicely tanned girl whose grin made his knees weak. "Hey, Ron. It's been a while. How's Percy?"

"He's fine, actually, I have a question for Ebony," Ron smirked. It was a look misplaced on his face, but neither of the girls noticed really.

"Mmm?" her reply was laced with her disinterest, and Ron realized she didn't find him a threat by any means.

"A duel Ebony. Wizard a witch."

"And who's the wizard?" Ebony asked, her eyebrows perking upwards.

"Why me, of course."

"Why are we dueling exactly?"

"For Hermione…"

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione questioned, now getting involved.

"You bed together…you write spells together, and you spend every waking moment together. I'm not going to wait til caught you're snogging in a hallway to act," Ron growled, quoting his brother as best he could remember.

Hermione and Ebony laughed as one before the latter turned away. "Hermione is my friend. My first best friend in the world. I wouldn't dream of 'snogging' her in a hallway. She deserves better. At least my rooms provide sufficient comfort, don't you think?" Ebony grinned to herself so Ron couldn't see. It didn't take much for her voice to keep steady, but in this situation, keeping her face straight was quite the issue.

"I don't believe I could have a quarrel with her logic. It's always infallible, you see," Hermione directed her next question to Ebony, "Shall we be off to your rooms then?"

"We may as well, Lover. We've been caught." After she spoke, Ebony shrank to fours, and dark fur sprouted a quickly as she could make it. Once she was a full panther, she tagged Hermione and ran towards the shadows to change back and hide.

"This isn't a time for games," Ron snapped, exasperated.

"Ron, we're not lovers. We're friends. We're just close, that's all. Just like you and I. We're not…you're not what I'm looking for. Were she not my friend and a little bit more on the masculine side of the gender scale, I'd definitely consider her. But you, Ron—I'd hate to ruin the friendship that we do have."

"You mean the one where you insult me every time my back is turned?"

"Um, no. I mean the one where I do your homework and we go on adventures with Harry and we nearly get expelled from school and we make snide remarks about Professor Snape—"

"Where is Harry?" Ron interrupted, no longer interested in what she had to say. His eyes met hers and he realized he still wanted her. But he realised, too, that he could not have her and looked away.

"He's with Dumbledore, of course." The interruption shook her back into reality. Ebony was waiting to be caught. Hermione drew Ron into a hug that was extremely awkward for him, but he hugged her back once he got over the initial shock.

Hermione changed after letting him go and took to the sky on a quest for Ebony, but as she circled, she realised that her was already gone.


	20. Chapter TwentyTwo: Trapping a Pedophile

Hermione circled slowly and her piercing gaze noticed that a shadow lay unmoving once hawk-like instinct overcame her. She drew towards it curiously before landing on its outskirts. As she shifted, and feathers melted human flesh, she realised that the shadow was akin to a pit of darkness. She stepped in it cautiously and the world seemed right again. Ebony studied a shocked Hermione with an arched eyebrow before saying her name to get her attention.

"I..I guess the sun was playing tricks," the brunette sighed, "it's nearly time to head back either way." Ebony stood and stretched, her shadow's arms extending in the same lay way. Hermione shook her head softly, clearing it as Ebony started off.

They crossed paths with Draco who turned his attention from a chatty first year to the odd pair. "Pedophilia isn't good for you, Malfoy," Ebony commented. "Your fiancée might get jealous."

"Mudbloods aren't good for you either, but you can't seem to get enough of yours," he replied coldly, though the tips of his ears burned pink.

"At least I'm overall more satisfying than your pureblood," Hermione smirked.

"Besides…who the Hell do you think you are?" Ebony growled, pointedly looking at his arm. It chilled him over before Hermione continued, "Even as a mudblood, I'll kick your ass." She drew her wand; Draco drew his, but she managed to murmur something quickly, and the result was a mute, immobile, and blind Malfoy.

"What did you do?" Ebony asked softly, almost as confused as Malfoy himself.

"You know Pansy's major flaw?" Hermione grinned.

"You can boil the idiot heifer's flaws into one big one? I bow to you…"

Hermione flashed a wicked grin. "She's not clever enough for a guy like him." She slipped his wand out of stone fingers and handed it to bony. With deftness she undid his robes and let them pool about his ankles. "Care to lend me your claw?" Hermione asked purposefully, knowing he could hear. Lost in a world of swirling curiosity, Ebony's nails changed to sharpened claws and Hermione guided Ebony's wrist before she clipped Draco's shirt, slitting it in two. The cloth clung loosely to his shoulders and the girls studied him quietly.

"Mute and blind, Malfoy. Still powerful?" Hermione quipped as her fingers unsnapped the button of his pants so they sank lower around his hips. "You can't move, Draco. But I'm a mudblood, Malfoy. Are you still above me?" Her fingers drew along his zipper, and she slipped it downwards so his pants fell, too, and joined his robes around his ankles. A squeal of laughter escaped Ebony as she focused on fixing her nails.

The hawk pushed her prey back. She gathered his robes and pants before slinging them over her shoulder. "You're vulnerable here, Malfoy. Are you still above me?" she asked again. She smiled softly and planted a kiss on his cheek. His insides churned before he caught the soft scent of vanilla and calmed. "You're a real peach, Malfoy." She turned away, and Ebony followed, watching her friend's newly assured step.


	21. Chapter TwentyThree: Responsibilities

Memo: This is a fly-by half-chapter because he put up circa fifty pictures on Deviant Art…and it's, like, you want me to what, exactly? A month before exams, too. T'any rate...I'm making this half-chapter because the most recent comment concerned me and I wanted to reply. I didn't mean to be misleading. I've made Ron out to the biggest idiot possible…and Ron's whole assumption was based on this girl who questioned my friend's and my relationship in ninth grade. So he was wrong in his assumption of their lesbonicism. Draco was just being mean…He didn't actually mean "You're sleeping with Hermione" when he said "You can't get enough of yours" it was more of a, "You're always in contact with that filthy mudblood." I'll try to fix it later, I suppose… At first, I was going to put them together, though. It definitely crossed my mind, but I have another set of plans for all of them, so…yes…Hope that cleared things up.

Hermione's primary question made his temple pulse harder, pervading his thoughts in that obnoxious way she tended to do things. He knew he should have ignored them and stuck with—what was her name? He couldn't recall. He sighed to himself as he stood still on the outskirts of Hogmsmeade without more than a torn shirt and boxers. He was blind and immobile, incapable of seeking aid, and though he could feel the cold and humility both, he still wondered, "Am I above her?" The idea that he was had been long since ingrained. Was it not his birthright to proudly stand over her?

Ebony toyed with Malfoy's wand in her study space and passed it off to Harry.

"You realize you guys really did a number on the guy?" Harry smirked.

"It was all 'Mione. She was amazing," Ebony grinned as she settled into her couch, Stranger's purr filling the air as he weaved in and out of the space between her ankles.

"Actually, I used one of the spells I found in your notebooks…I wasn't completely certain as to what it would do—but it looked close to the binding spell."

"Oh," Ebony laughed slightly, "it would have locked all his senses had he been given the potion that went with the spell…I made that in one of Snape's classes. The man's really inspiring when it comes down to it. You want so much to just strike him in the face that you can get really inventive with offensive and defensive spells."

"Why don't we trap the whole gang?" Harry asked. "Pansy, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle…why not all of them? Lock their senses and reposition them doing something incriminating…"

"Like what?"

"Like…an orgy in gelatin or…I don't know…" Harry sighed.

"Whether or not we have power doesn't change the fact that we have to be responsible, Harry," Hermione chastised, "and an orgy isn't being responsible."

"Leaving a boy near naked and close to the woods isn't too responsible either, Love. I'll tend to it, though."

"The spell isn't timed?"

"Not without the accompanying potion, no, he's more or less stuck that way."

A word rarely anticipated from Hogwarts' smartest witch escaped her as she flushed, "Oops…"

Harry gave Ebony Draco's wand and she tucked it away before grabbing an overcoat and heading off.


	22. Chapter TwentyFour: Demons and Dragons

Twilight had come, and the sun was fading as Ebony reached Draco. "You had to choose to snog on one of the least used pathways, didn't you?" she sighed. Her fingers drew over his chiseled features—the mark of exclusive breeding—slowly. "You're cold." She murmured the counterspell and the shock of sensation forced Draco to the floor.

His blood flow had slowed whilst he had been stuck standing, and the sudden rush of circulation released a prickly feeling that waved over him. His eyes were a wild swirl of gray and black, a mingling of fear, hatred, pain, and relief.

The last rays of sun had shown his lips to be blue with cold, and Ebony felt alittle guilty knowing she had forgotten to bring him clothes. She knelt beside him as he regained himself. He immediately raised a hand as though to strike her before dropping it to his side. Her finger tips found his cheek, and to her dismay, he was still cold. "Let's go." She remembered vaguely that he was not more than a cold-hearted male. Consoling him was not her prerogative.

Draco stood slowly and winced. Ebony supported him as she rose to her feet, her eyes darting over his unmasked look of defeat that seemed plastered on his normally proud face. "She didn't know the full effect of the spell," Ebony said apologetically without saying, "I'm sorry" forthright. She pulled one of his arms around her waist and supported him as they walked, feeding him both warmth and security. He didn't speak, so she didn't either, and the silence hung heavily in the air around them.

She led him to Scrivenshafts', hoping that at least Daemon could supply Draco with clothes. The door jingled slightly as they entered, and Daemon arrived from behind the counter, smirking slightly. "I knew you could ride a man hard."

Draco snarled as he turned his attention to Daemon before being struck by a flash of recognition. The death eater had frequented the Manor prior to his father's arrest. "Did he give up on you?" he asked hoarsely.

"No, but he gave up on you," Daemon remarked with a malicious grin.

"Scrivenshaft?" Ebony asked, confused.

"Yeah, sure," Daemon answered off-handedly compliant for once. "What do you two want?"

"I was wondering if you had extra clothes. His body's cold."

"What'd you do to him?"

"I wrote a spell and my friend used it improperly…"

"I'm sure you've heard of Harry Potter," Draco lied, interjecting as well as changing the stage. Ebony didn't fight the change.

"I've heard he's weak. It's a shame you lost to him. He thought you had great potential once upon a time. With your father boosting up your image, I s'pose that's natural."

"Others, too, have lost to Potter," Draco spat.

"Not when he was on his own, "Daemon snapped back.

"Do you or don't you have clothes?" Ebony interrupted, not only confused but irritated by the growing hostility between the two.

"Extra work clothes, but they'll be too big. Mr. Malfoy's not as big as he likes to think he is."

"That's fine," Ebony answered before Draco could. When Daemon left them, she guided his tattered shirt off of his shoulders. "You're still cold."

"I was out a while."

"She didn't know what she was doing, and I didn't know what was done til later."

"Somehow, that's not a comfort in the least."

Side Notes:

In regards to Cricketsong:

No longer calling them memo's 'cause they're not…I don't know. I found another review that begged response…this time on behalf of my attack on Pansy. Rowling does not properly develop Miss Parkinson. There's little to know about her. Afterall, she only appears six times in the novels, and not even once in every book. I used other fanfics as a model, though perhaps I should have had ingenuity of my own, I did not. I portrayed the wench as a glutton and as an imbecile. This whole story is more-so feminist than anything else. If you haven't noticed…So despite her lack of appeal to societal standards, I gave Pansy her strength in sex-appeal. Now, why would I do that if I was so against "husky" women? They just describe her as a "heifer" and other derogatory terms because they don't like her. Even if Rowling actually developed her, I don't think I would have done much differently…especially because I rarely get the opportunity use the word heifer. Sorry to have offended you so much that you can't even bear to read the rest of the story...But I am not sorry for what I wrote just as I cannot apologise for your incorrect interpretation of my views.

In regards to HKSux:

More chapters will be written. A deal—no matter how much I regret it—is a deal. I'm writing them during class so it should be circa a chapter a day. If it's not done within the fifty chapters I owe, then I will end it arbitrarily because it'll be a sign that I'm rambling and that's not good—or fair. I do have a basic plot line that I'm following. And I'm glad you like the story. Encouragement from more than your fellow feels awesome, and I thank you kindly.

– Love --


	23. Chapter TwentyFive: Night of the Dragon

Ebony brushed Draco's hair back softly, letting his long silver-blond hair slip through her fingers, almost as smoothly as water. His body had warmed since Daemon provided him with clothing, but Ebony did not want to him morph back into a foul, egocentric Slytherin again. Not while she had him the way she remembered him. He turned his head and softly kissed her inner thigh, forcing her to shift slightly, but she sought not retribution.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" she asked him softly. Draco turned his head back and looked up at her, remembering the day they'd met when violet first chanced to cross silver. There was an intensity between the that crushed his chest, especially after denying it for so long. "Never mind," she sighed, turning away. "You belong with your friends—and I have things to do. Rescuing you took a lot of time." She pushed him out of her lap and he fell gracelessly unto the floor. Stranger came to reoccupy his place—the one Draco had stolen from him. The cat was idly pet, her smooth fingers drawing through his soft fur without any destination, whereas with Draco her touch had been equally soft, but firmer. Draco pulled himself to his feet and glowered down at Ebony, unfazed as she glowered up at him.

"I'm not marrying Pansy."

"Who's to say I care, Draco? I wanted to be your friend; your wife made no difference to me. Hermione would suit you better if you want someone who gives a fuck."

Draco didn't pause over the irony of the statement as he replied, "I couldn't love a mud-"

"Get out, Malfoy," Ebony hissed, spitting out his last name with spite and vehemence he had not heard from her before.

"Why the Hell do you always make me feel guilty?"

"Because you deserve it. Because you're a weak, heartless person who calls himself a man."

"God, Ebony, is that what you think of me?" he moved forward and Stranger leapt away. He placed his forehead against hers. "I've never hurt you. I couldn't if I tried. You're an emotionless bitch who just swings whichever way suits you," he murmured. His breath was soft against her lips before he closed the gap between them. Just as quickly, he pulled away, and the sudden rush of cool air between them left Ebony cold. "Whether I'm a hollow shell of a man or the man of your dreams, I've claimed your first kiss and there's nothing to be done about it."

Dumbledore looked up from his desk to see Harry before him. "I think I know where there's a Hocrux," he smiled grimly.

"Mm?" Dumbledore's eyes met Harry's. "I've been looking everywhere for clues to the next one." He smiled. "Harry, you've developed finely."

"Sir, before we get into praise and whatnot, I think the Hocrux is in me. I don't think he meant to kill me. If he had—he would have done so. I'm not the boy who lived. I'm the boy who was spared. He anticipated an arch rival. What better way to ensure he lives on than if—"

"Than if whether you kill him or not, he's still alive in you" Dumbledore finished, noting Harry's strain. Harry nodded softly and his knees buckled slightly, but he remained standing.

"Headmaster, why can't I just be…normal? In some way?"

"Normalcy is not something to strive for, Harry. I do, however, have an idea of sorts."

"Sir?"

"Go to bed, Harry. It will all be all right," Dumbledore murmured with a paternal grin lit across his face. When he could no longer sense the boy's presence, Albus broke down and simply cried—something he hadn't done in quite some time. Minerva McGonagall found him there, asleep in his own tears the next morning. The sight struck her with a momentary fear, but it lapsed as she re-entered the hallway and caught her breath. "With all that goes through, I should have expected the stress to get to him."


End file.
